


Thinking About Forever

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Series: True Smile Series [2]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Humor, Lemon, Light Angst, M/M, Out of Character, Post EW, Sappy Ending, Yaoi, by Anria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 02:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13537569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by Anria--Duo lowered his head and stared at his hands, mouth twisting thoughtfully and a slight frown creasing his forehead. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he be happy for his friends, who had so obviously found the happiness he wanted for them?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

It had taken a lot of guts for the two most reticent of the pilots to tell the other how they felt about them. Hell, it had taken a lot of guts for them to _allow_ themselves to feel something. And then, after it was all over, it took several false starts and a lot of stammering to let themselves become public about it.  
  
Trowa and Heero had spoken about it at length _\--_ a conversation that had actually spanned several days, with gaps of perhaps a few hours in between the next comment. Both were more inclined to work things out for themselves, even though it had been proven to them that at times that was not the wisest of things to do, and that another's input was occasionally needed. Both had agreed that they owed their emotional development mainly to Duo, and partly to Quatre. Heero owed his solely to Duo, who had never given up on him even long after all the others had.  
  
So, it was mostly Duo's fault that they had allowed themselves to feel anything like what they currently felt for each other. And so they owed it to him to show him how far he had made them progress. That, they reasoned, would make him happy, and pay him back in part for all he done for them.  
  
Heero sometimes wondered if they had chosen each other not because they were truly, deeply in love (or lust) but more as the safest choice. After all, they were very similar _\--_ both in their childhood experiences and subsequent personalities. Perhaps it was soldier training kicking in and not allowing them to ever consider and true relationship outside of their group, in case they were compromised. Perhaps it was like calling to like, offering the partial sanctuary of fighting alongside someone with the same demons, the same problems, the same memories. Maybe it was for each to build up their confidence, that they could love and be loved, before moving on to what they really wanted.  
  
Maybe it was true love.  
  
But whatever the reason was, they were together and they were happy. And they owed to the person who had made their happiness possible to know what he had done for the both of them. After all, they reasoned, if he had been delighted to see the smallest evidence of a happy future, he would be overjoyed to see them now.  
  
Wouldn't he?  
  
+  
  
"Any of you guys know what's goin' on?" Duo asked, bouncing around the private room of the exclusive restaurant Quatre had reserved for them. The braided pilot checked his watch again. "Damn, they're late! Mr Anal-Retentive and his Silent Sidekick are late!"  
  
"Calm down, Duo," Wufei said. "They'll be here."

"Correction, they are here," Quatre said, smiling and standing to wave through the door to Trowa and Heero. Heero gave a curt nod in acknowledgment of the gesture and the two made their way up to the room, drawing stares from the well-dressed guests at their casual jeans and jackets.  
  
"Hey, Tro! Hee-chan! Have you two been stealing from each other's wardrobes or somethin'? You look like the Bobsey twins!" was Duo's enthusiastic greeting. He bounced over to the two of them, grabbing their hands and dragging them over the table, kicking the door shut. "How've you been? I haven't seen you lot in ages!"  
  
"Two weeks," Wufei corrected.  
  
"See, ages!" Duo's grin wasn't his truly happy one, but nor was it his usual mask. It took some interpretation to read Duo's expressions and determine what he was really feeling, but the others had all become adept at it _\--_ or at least, adept enough to know that Duo was happy to see them. "So what've you been up to? How've you been? Have you decided on a job, or have you decided to go back to school? In trouble for hacking yet, Heero? How's Catherine, Tro? What did you want to tell us? Do you like the place Q swiped for us? You could have dressed up, y'know! After all, Q-bean did go to all the trouble of booking us this place so you could make your announcement! So what's up?"  
  
"Duo!" Quatre burst out, manners unable to stop him from interrupting. "At least give them a chance to answer," he said when the babbling pilot shut up and looked at him.  
  
"Oh, okay!" Duo dropped into a seat, grinning up at the two bemused boys. Wufei rolled his eyes.  
  
"Let's eat first," Heero said, as laconic as ever. He dropped his jacket onto the back of the chair, revealing he was still wearing that damn tanktop.  
  
"Heero, do you ever wash that thing?"  
  
"Duo! Don't be so mean!"  
  
"Fine, fine, I'll stop bugging Heero. Tro, does he ever wash that damn thing?"  
  
One corner of Trowa's mouth twitched up as he copied Heero, revealing that not one part of his garb during the wars had changed, unlike Heero, who had _finally_ gotten rid of the spandex. "Not to my knowledge," he replied quietly. Heero glared at him, which only made Trowa's mouth twitch a little higher.  
  
Duo, meanwhile, was laughing his ass off.  
  
"Well, let's take this opportunity to catch up, shall we?" Quatre asked, picking up the menu and smiling his angelic smile at the table. Duo noticed and quirked an eyebrow at him. _Why the mask?_ he asked with his eyes. Quatre moved the menu to shield his face from all the others and gave him a truly devilish grin.  
  
_Oh, shit,_ Duo thought, _Q's planning a prank. I hope it's not on me. . . ._  
  
Quatre re-affixed the angelic smile onto his face and removed the shield of the menu. "Does anyone have any preferences for dinner?" he inquired, knowing full damn well that they would all choose their favourites.  
  
"Do they have curry here, Q?" Duo asked, trying to read the flowing script of the menu without squinting so much he went cross-eyed.  
  
"If they don't, just request it and the chef will make it for you," Quatre said. "This is one of the few upper class restaurants that tries to cater to all tastes, after all."  
  
"Most restaurants don't do that," Wufei said. He laid the menu down on the table and informed them all he would be ordering wonton noodle soup. Which caused Duo to make a really off-colour crack about Wufei's preferences, which led Wufei to begin ranting about Duo being an uncouth boy with no sense of taste or good food, which led Duo to stick his tongue out at the Chinese boy and start arguing back.  
  
Trowa glanced over at Heero, who was watching the two bicker with a smirk on his face. "Just like old times," he said softly.  
  
Heero glanced back at him, a smile tugging on the smirk telling it that it had had enough airing time and it was his go now. "Yes, it is," he said, equally softly.  
  
Quatre frowned at the two of them. What was going on there?  
  
He was saved from considering it any further when the maitre d' appeared and began taking down their orders. Hell, he _did_ have the head of Winner Incorporated sitting in one of his private rooms, after all. Wufei and Duo managed to refrain from their customary sniping while the snobbish man was still in the room, and Quatre forestalled a repeat of that performance by jumping in after the maitre d' left before Duo could open his mouth.  
  
"So, what did you want to tell us?" Quatre asked Heero and Trowa, smiling at them. The whole reason they were in the restaurant to begin with was because the two had called them up and asked if they could meet somewhere for them to give them important news. "Nothing bad, I hope."  
  
"No," Heero grunted.  
  
Duo, Quatre and Wufei waited for him to continue.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
And waited even more.  
  
And _\--_ "Oh for the love of God, would you just tell us?!" Duo burst out.  
  
Heero and Trowa looked at each other. "You tell them," Heero said.  
  
"You talk more than I do."  
  
"So? You're better at it than me."  
  
"What has that go to do with _\--_ "  
  
"Um, excuse me? Hello? Can you guys stop arguing over who's gonna tell us and just tell us already?" Duo interrupted.  
  
The two boys in question looked at each other, looked away, looked down, looked up, looked anywhere but at any of the other four boys.  
  
"Heero! Trowa!"  
  
"Fine, I'll tell them," Trowa ground out. "Um, you see, the reason we wanted to talk to you is . . . well, it's . . . we wanted to tell you. . . ."  
  
"We're together," Heero burst out.  
  
There was silence for a moment.  
  
Then, "Together? Do you guys mean together as in banging each other into the mattress?"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
"Oh, jeez, Q-man, how else was I supposed to say it?"  
  
"Duo's right," Heero said quietly, before Quatre could say anything else. "We are together . . . like that."  
  
"Only in less vulgar terms, am I correct?" Wufei said, smirking. The two boys quickly looked at him to see his smile/smirk, and a hope for the positive reactions of their friends began to drown out the fear of rejection because of their preferences. The last of their fears about Wufei _\--_ who had always seemed the most upright and rigidly moral of them all _\--_ were slaughtered at his next words (or rather, word). "Congratulations."  
  
"Thank you," Trowa told him. The three turned back to the last two.  
  
Quatre was gaping at them like a landed fish. "I _\--_ what _\--_ I didn't _\--_ " he swallowed and got himself under control, and then suddenly a smile that would have sat well on the devil blossomed on his face. "Guys, that's great! I had no idea! How long? How did you get together? What happened?" Quatre stopped suddenly. "Oh God, I sound like Duo!"  
  
The comment, and Quatre's behaviour, dragged a laugh from the other three. The fifth member of their group, though, was having some difficulty understanding his reaction to their announcement.  
  
_Why aren't I happy. . . ? I should be jumping for joy that they've come far enough to get into a stable relationship and give themselves a chance at a normal life, but. . . ._  
  
_Why am I reacting like this?_  
  
Duo used the cover of the others' distraction to study the two of them. As the laughter died down, Heero glanced at Trowa, and those unbearably sweet and beautiful and _happy_ smiles overtook their faces as they looked at each other. Those smiles always made him feel warm inside whenever he saw them, so why. . . ? Why did it ache inside?  
  
Duo lowered his head and stared at his hands, mouth twisting thoughtfully and a slight frown creasing his forehead. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he be happy for his friends, who had so obviously found the happiness he wanted for them?  
  
_I am so confused. . . ._  
  
"Duo?" Quatre's concerned voice jarred him out of his thoughts, and he realised he'd been silent for far too long. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, and he felt four pairs of eyes trying to stare through the shield of his bangs.  
  
"Duo, what's . . . what's wrong?"  
  
That was Trowa. Duo frowned more deeply, not ready to face them yet . . . but . . . what was that tone in his voice? He almost sounded. . . . Naw, couldn't be. . . . He couldn't be afraid. . . . What was there to be afraid of?  
  
_Rejection._  
  
The little voice rang in his head. Trowa was afraid of rejection. He was afraid Duo wouldn't approve, that they had hurt his friendship by their relationship. . . .  
  
"Duo?"  
  
Heero that time. . . . The same tone in his voice. . . . _Oh, God, what do I do. . . ?_  
  
_You work this out another time. They need you to be happy for them: be happy for them._  
  
Yes, that was the answer.  
  
But how to pass off his silence. . . .  
  
An evil grin spread over his features. "Guys . . . I don't know what to say to this. . . ."  
  
He could see them out of the corner of his eye. . . . Ooh, they looked worried. . . .  
  
"Other than. . . ."  
  
Okay, Heero's tensing up. . . . Hehe, this is so much fun!  
  
"CONGRATULATIONS!"  
  
Duo launched himself across the table (and Wufei) to wrap an arm around each of his friend's necks and give them a throttling hug. He was laughing, and hoped the slightly forced tone was only noticeable to him. "You guys, this is so great!"  
  
"Duo . . . air. . . ."  
  
"Oh, oops!" Duo let go of them and slid back into his seat, grinning manically and hoping they wouldn't realise it didn't have the faintest hint of happiness in it. "So, when's the wedding?"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
Duo just laughed. "Gotcha real good, didn't I?"  
  
Heero was smiling at him. "Yeah, Duo," he said, as softly as ever.  
  
No one's attention was on Quatre. If it was, they may have seen his frown as he looked at his friend, and heard his muttered comment of, ". . . real good."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


The door slammed open, hitting the wall and bounding back to smack the owner of the apartment for being so presumptuous as to open it so roughly.  
  
Duo staggered sideways. "Stupid piece of synthetic wood," he muttered, rubbing his arm as he kicked the stupid piece of synthetic wood shut. Blowing out a breath that fluffed his bangs up out of his face, he walked into the first of the four rooms in his apartment, dropping his jacket on one end of the sofa as he moved through to the small kitchen area that just about counted as another room. Opening the fridge he grabbed one of the bottles of beer, quickly snapping off the lid and taking a drink. He leaned back against the side in the dark room in the dark apartment and dropped the mask. Face and thoughts pensive, he took another drink, then set the bottle down and bowed his head, resting his palms on the counter.  
  
What the fuck was that?  
  
Good question. Duo grabbed his beer and moved back into the first room, dropping onto the short sofa and propping his feet on the low table as he prepared himself for a long night thinking about his odd reaction at the restaurant. There was no way in hell he was gonna get to sleep until he worked it out. So, start with the basics.  
  
You were . . . upset? . . . about Heero and Trowa being together, as a couple.  
  
Well, duh.  
  
Why?  
  
Duo sat up abruptly. It always came back to that! Why the hell had he reacted that way? Why the hell had it not made him happy? He' d worked for years to get those two to open up and start feeling their emotions again, and this was far more than he had ever thought they would get so fast! He should be happy!  
  
But he wasn' t.  
  
Why?  
  
Dammit, I already went through this!  
  
There must be an answer. So go through it again, and look harder.  
  
Duo leaned back, frowning thoughtfully, tapping the head of the beer bottle against his cheek. Am I worried that with the two together it' ll be like blind leading the blind? Nah, of course not. More like the healing sick helping the healing sick.  
  
He snorted. Now that was a bad analogy.  
  
The point still stands. They' re not blind; they' ve partially regained their sight. They're gaining more every day. And having someone there who understands what they're going through and can help them because they know what' s it like is not a bad thing. In fact, it's positively good.  
  
So that's not why I'm upset.  
  
So what else was there?  
  
I thought Tro and Q might have a thing going on for a while. No, that's dumb _\--_ Trowa was never interested in him as more than a friend, and Q. . . . Duo snorted. Yeah right. He frowned. So that's another theory down the chute. I didn' t really think Heero would ever have anything with any of us . . . shows how much I know. I thought he was straight. So what the hell was the Relena thing? Could all be in her head, I suppose. Heero might've protected her because of the peace . . . or it might be a more personal thing, like with me and children. . . .  
  
Duo smiled slightly, reminiscing. I remember thinking that it was a damn shame that someone with such a fine ass was straight. . . . He took a drink from his bottle.  
  
And nearly choked. Is that it? Am I . . . jealous?  
  
No way! Him and Tro are my best friends! I could never think ill of either!  
  
. . . now I sound like Quatre.' Thinking ill of someone' , huh!  
  
But . . . could that be it?  
  
If so . . . who am I jealous of?  
  
Trowa . . . or Heero?  
  
Or both?  
  
Duo' s eyes opened wide in the darkness of his apartment.   
  
Dammit, now he wasn't going to get any sleep at all.  
  
---


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: okay, people are definitely gonna say Trowa's OOC in this. Hey, it's after the war, I've already explained that they've all lightened up a bit, he's not as far as I'm concerned! Ha! Yaoi, humour (I hope)
> 
> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


"Heero?"  
  
"Hn?" the sleepy grunt came from just beside Trowa.  
  
"Did Duo's reaction seem . . . well, off, to you?"  
  
"Nani?" Well, Heero was sounding more awake now.  
  
"He . . . wasn't happy." Trowa frowned at the ceiling.  
  
Suddenly his vision was obscured as Heero leaned over him. "He was grinning like usual," Heero replied in his usual monotone.  
  
"Precisely. He was wearing his mask. I think . . . I think that bit where he went quiet and tried to pass it off as a joke was part of his real reaction."  
  
"Why would Duo not be happy about us? He's tried for ages to get us to open up."  
  
"I don't know why!" Trowa said, frustrated and flustered. "Dammit, do I look like a mind reader to you?"  
  
"Of course not," Heero replied. "You're not blond and you don't have twenty-nine sisters."  
  
Trowa stared. ". . . did you just make a joke?"  
  
His lover smirked.  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"Uso." [1]  
  
"Yep."  
  
"Don't you think Duo would be happy to see us arguing like this and acting like him?"  
  
"Yes, I do think he would. Which is why I'm really confused as to why he didn't react like that, why he seemed like he was disappointed that we're together. I . . . just don't get it." Trowa stared up at Heero. "I'm going to find out what's bothering him."  
  
"How?" Heero's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He was alarmingly protective when it came to Duo, even with his own lover.  
  
"I'm not going to torture him for information, Heero. I'm just going to talk to him. If he doesn't want to tell me, so be it."  
  
Heero snorted and lay back down, his way of indicating the end of the conversation.  
  
Yeah, Heero, I know how you feel, Trowa thought. I don't believe me either.  
  
"Trowa," Heero said suddenly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Talk to Quatre first."  
  
+  
  
"Trowa! What a surprise!"  
  
Trowa simply stared at his former war companion incredulously. Quatre had opened the door to the apartment he kept so he could live away from the servants and take care of himself while not at work wearing only a towel with wet hair and looking suspiciously flushed.  
  
"Um, can you come back in about ten minutes? I . . . um, I need to do some . . . uh, cleaning up, yeah that's it. . . ."  
  
"Who's with you?" Trowa asked, feeling a smile tugging at his lips.  
  
"Uh, nobody!" Quatre said, just a little too high. He coughed and lowered his voice back down to its normal level. "I mean, what do you mean, who's with me?"  
  
Trowa looked down at him and raised an eyebrow. "Quatre, you're not even trying."  
  
Quatre heaved out a sigh and slumped against the door frame, hitching his large towel higher on his chest. "Do you want to come in and wait for a minute while I get changed?" he stepped back to allow Trowa to come in.  
  
A very familiar voice floated out of Quatre's bedroom. "Who was it?"  
  
Trowa choked. He stared down at the smaller blond boy, who had suddenly gone very red.  
  
And then he started grinning. And then chuckling. And then he couldn't hold it in any longer, and quite literally fell over onto the cough laughing. He doubled over, clutching his stomach, still laughing, while Quatre stood there and glowed with the force of his blush, that had now spread onto his shoulders and chest.  
  
"Quatre?" Wufei walked out of the bedroom clad only in the pants of his Preventer uniform. He stopped dead, staring at the near-hysterical Trowa and furiously-blushing Quatre, and his jaw came slightly unhinged.  
  
Trowa opened watering eyes, caught sight of Wufei standing there in such an undignified state of dress and gaping at him like he'd dressed in a grass skirt and started doing the hula, and laughed harder than he could ever remember doing. He flopped over backwards and clutching his aching stomach as he laughed so hard tears fell out of the corners of his eyes.  
  
"Y-you . . . and _\--_ and Wu-chan!" he managed to stutter out, and then collapsed into hysterical giggles again, although whether at the idea or his use of Duo's nickname for Wufei was not obvious.  
  
Wufei managed to shut his mouth, and then turned to give Quatre a helpless look. Quatre, still glowing red, brushed past him, trying to hide his face as he raced into the bedroom to put some clothes on.  
  
Wufei shrugged and picked up his shirt from the table where it had apparently been thrown, slinging his arms into it and loosely doing it up. Apparently not caring that his appearance was less than immaculate, he then calmly walked over and sat down in a padded armchair across from Trowa and sat like a king on his throne, waiting for the boy's fit of giggles to calm itself.  
  
Eventually Trowa did calm somewhat. He lounged bonelessly on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, and occasionally some hiccupping sort of chuckle making its way out. He wore a smile that seemed to say he had found out the meaning of life, and it was all one big joke.  
  
After judging a suitable amount of time had passed, Wufei said, "Well, I bet you never thought when coming here today that you would find this, did you?"  
  
Trowa rolled over to grin in his friend's direction. "It seems congratulations are in order," he said, rather hoarsely. His bout of laughter had torn up his throat somewhat.  
  
Wufei smirked at him _\--_ the infuriating kind, this time. "Definitely," he said in a throaty tone of voice.  
  
That set Trowa off again.  
  
By the time Quatre emerged from the bedroom, now fully dressed (sans shoes), Trowa was just beginning to calm down again, although he was far from sober. The blond Arabian walked over to the other armchair and sat down in it, deliberately distancing himself from the other two men in the room.  
  
Trowa swivelled so he was sitting upright and facing the other two. He couldn't help but smirk in Quatre's direction. "So, I hear you two had a good time last night."  
  
Quatre shot a deadly glare in Wufei's direction.  
  
"Don't look at me like that, Winner! I said nothing!"  
  
Trowa, meanwhile, was chuckling at the two of them. "You two are so cute," he told them.  
  
"Cute?!?" two voices said simultaneously.  
  
"An unfortunate turn of phrase, perhaps," Trowa said, completely deadpan in tone while he gave the two a small smile. It appeared that his loss of control in the fit of hysterical laughter was beginning to revert back to his usual reserve. "I didn't come here to talk about your sex lives."  
  
"I most certainly hope not," Wufei said, pretending to be highly offended. He was deliberately not doing a very good job. Trowa took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk with you," to Quatre "about Duo."  
  
Quatre leaned forwards intently, all embarrassment forgotten. "You noticed it, too?" he questioned eagerly.  
  
"Noticed what?" Wufei asked, looking between the two of them, then backtracked. "If it is something you would rather not discuss with me, then _\--_ "  
  
"No, Wufei, it doesn't matter," Trowa interrupted. "I would like your input as well, if possible," he added as an afterthought.  
  
"All right. So what is wrong with Maxwell now?"  
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
Quatre intervened. "Wufei, you remember when we all met at that restaurant and Heero and Trowa made their rather stammered announcement?"  
  
"I resent that phrase," Trowa said, now back to being completely deadpan.  
  
"You stammered, don't deny it. Wufei?"  
  
"I remember."  
  
"Did Duo's reaction seem . . . well, off to you?"  
  
Wufei frowned, propping his ankle on the other knee. "Now you mention it . . . it did seem rather strange at the time," he said. "But then Maxwell turned it into a prank, and I thought nothing of it."  
  
"I don't think the first bit was a prank," Trowa said quietly. "I -- I thought Duo, at least, would be happy for us. . . ."  
  
"I would have thought that, too," Quatre agreed, nodding. "After all the time he spent with you and Heero, trying to get you to open up, it only seems logical that he would be equally happy -- if not more so -- with this than when you smiled at him for the first time, or something like that."  
  
"So we've established that Maxwell wasn't happy about Heero and Trowa. Does anyone have any suggestions as to why?" Wufei asked.  
  
"I can't think of a damn thing," Trowa admitted. "That was why I came here."  
  
"Can Heero think of anything?" Quatre wanted to know.  
  
"Heero didn't even think anything was off until I pointed it out to him. He's probably got half a dozen theories right now, but if he thought any of them viable he would have shared them with me."  
  
"Hm." Quatre sat back, tapping a finger on his chin.  
  
Trowa hesitated. "I thought maybe I could . . . talk to him," he said. "Find out what's wrong, I mean."  
  
"He's not going to tell you right out," Quatre said, still frowning and tapping.  
  
"Have you got a better idea?"  
  
Quatre sighed. "To be honest, it seems like whenever I try to use my strategic knowledge on a friend, my brain flies out the window. All I can do is act on my own emotions. . . . I'm not sure whether this is because subconsciously I feel guilty about manipulating my closest friends or just because I can't apply tactics to the complicated people I know." He smiled ruefully at them. "And Duo's just about as complicated as they come. I can't think of a damn thing either."  
  
"Wufei?" Trowa asked.  
  
"I'm concerned about Maxwell," Wufei said slowly, "but I can't say I know him well enough to know a way to get him to open up." He frowned suddenly. "No, that was the wrong way to phrase it. I know him well enough to know that there is no way to get him to open up if he doesn't want to. So your solution is to get him to feel that he wants or needs to tell you what's wrong with him."  
  
Trowa buried his head in his hands. "This is too complicated," he groaned. "I'm not Duo! I can't deal with people!"  
  
Quatre snorted. "Tell that to Lady Une."  
  
Trowa glared at him through his bangs. "Tell that to Trant." [2]  
  
"Point."  
  
"So, does everyone agree that the I should talk to Duo."  
  
"That does seem to be the wisest course of action to take, yes," Wufei replied. "Now if you're finished, may I finish getting dressed?"  
  
"Why bother?" Trowa called over his shoulder on his way to the door. "Quatre will just undress you again." His laughter echoed through the door as he made his way out of Quatre's apartment.  
  
  
  
  
---  
  
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Liar  
> [2] Remember Mr Let's-Test-All-The-G-Boys-With-Zero-System-And-Who-Really-Doesn't-Like-Trowa?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


::BRIIIING!::  
  
A rustling of sheets.  
  
::BRIIIING!::  
  
A loud groan. A pillow thrown in the direction of the ring.  
  
::BRIIIING!::  
  
Loud stomping. "All right, all right, I'm up already!"  
  
The stomping resolved itself into a sleep-mussed Duo, yawning widely and scratching himself, pawing with the other hand at his braid. It had come partially undone in the night, and tendrils of hair were sticking out at odd angles.  
  
::BRIIIING!::  
  
"Christ! Gimme a minute, would ya? Jeez, you'd think people would have more courtesy than to ring at. . . ." he trailed off as he peered at the clock. "Eleven thirty? No way!"  
  
::CLICK!::  
  
::"Hi, you've reached the private line of Death. If you're intensely suicidal, emulate the intensely suicidal, have a deathwish or think the rest of us are idiots, leave a message at the beep. Ja!"::  
  
Duo shook his head. It had been his little joke with the other pilots, since they were the only ones with that number, but he really needed to change that message. He threw himself down on the sofa, groaning and covering his eyes. The answering machine would get it.  
  
::BEEP!::  
  
::"Duo, I know you're there, so get up off your lazy ass and talk to me."::  
  
Trowa. Great. I sooooo do not need to talk to you right now, buddy.  
  
A pause. ::"Well, you're either asleep, ignoring me, or dancing around the apartment with your headphones on. I would like to meet you to talk. Meet me in the French café on Main at one."::  
  
::CLICK!:: ::BEEP!:: ::WHIRR!::  
  
Duo covered his face with his hands and groaned. He'd drunk far too much through the night after his little revelation and quite a bit into the morning, then collapsed. It looked like he'd slept through the next day and night, and wasted half of this one.  
  
Hmph. Two days down the drain while I tried to kill the brain cells that remember I'm jealous of my two best friends. Trowa hadn't given him the option of not showing up, and he couldn't very well call him and say, 'I'm sorry, I can't come meet you, I have a hangover from drinking straight through the night after we met at the restaurant, and the early morning as well, then passed out. Yes, I do know I'm lucky not to have choked on my vomit. No, I'm not going to tell you why I drank so much. Oh, you don't care and you think I'm an idiot and I'm going to have to come meet you anyway or you'll come drag me? Well, screw you.'  
  
"Great."  
  
Duo let his arm flop off his face and off the couch, sprawled in boneless flop.  
  
I should get up.  
  
But it's so comfy here. . . .  
  
Just a little longer. . . . I'll wake up in time. . . .  
  
When Duo woke up it was quarter to one.  
  
"ARGH!"  
  
---


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

  


Trowa stretched, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a crick out of his neck. He really needed to get out into the field again; if he kept up with the desk job he'd probably develop a permanent hunch. Checking the clock, he saw it was almost one. It would only take him a couple of minutes to get from HQ to the café he had arranged to meet Duo in, so he decided it was time for his lunch break.  
  
He stood, grabbed his jacket, and wove his way through the assorted desks piled high with paperwork. He paused by one in particular.  
  
"I'm going to meet Duo," he told Heero. "Want to come?"  
  
"Mission report," Heero grunted.  
  
Trowa barely resisted rolling his eyes. Even after the wars were over, not only did Heero get more field work than him, he still insisted on finishing the mission report before doing anything else _\--_ sometimes including eating and/or sleeping. He strode past the Japanese man bent over the keyboard and made his way to the stairs. He could have taken the elevator, but those things were so cramped they always reminded him of either an OZ cell or a mobile suit cockpit, neither or which he wanted to be reminded of.  
  
Trowa's ears were assaulted as he stepped out onto the street with a multitude of sounds that had not changed since the pre-colony days _\--_ cars, vans and motorcycles all conspired together to make as loud a noise as possible, while not polluting the atmosphere the way they had hundreds of years ago. Once they'd found a way to make electric power stick, the whole world became a lot cleaner. Some places had taken longer than others, being as what had been called back then the 'Third World' countries had only be able to afford the cars that ran on petrol and diesel, but now the skies over cities on Earth were clear of the fog that had hung over them for decades.  
  
Weaving his way along the sidewalk was far easier in a Preventer's uniform than it had ever been when he only wore jeans and a turtleneck. If you didn't have something to make people stay away (like height or some sort of official uniform) they had a tendency to just walk along like they expected you not to be there. Oh, it was never problem for Heero, who had grown far more than his Asian ancestry would suggest, or Duo, who had simply shot up once he was off the growth restriction hormones Professor G had put him on so he would actually fit in Deathscythe's cockpit, but him, Quatre, or Wufei? Forget it. Trowa himself hadn't grown at all since the wars, which left him at a grand total of five foot three, while Wufei was a couple of inches taller than him and thankfully Quatre was still shorter than him. Being short meant people automatically assumed you were easy to push around _\--_ although the uniform had a tendency to disabuse them of that notion. [1]  
  
Trowa scowled to himself, thinking it annoyingly ironic that he had once been the tallest of all the pilots, and was almost now the shortest, and the way Quatre had been eating recently he wouldn't be surprised if he soon became the shortest. Duo seemed to find it especially funny _\--_ and considering that he was now taller than Zechs, maybe he had a right to.  
  
It's a wonder he didn't faint, he grew so fast, Trowa thought irritably. There were days when you could almost hear it. He shook his head. So, let's see whether he's here on time.  
  
Trowa surveyed the customers of the café, both those with no respect for their ears who sat outside and those who were more sensible and retreated back inside. Nope, no Duo. For the second time that day, Trowa barely resisted rolling his eyes. Why was he not surprised?  
  
"Table for two," he told the waitress who came up to him. "My companion will be joining me shortly."  
  
"Yes sir," she said, bobbing her head respectfully and almost wondering out loud how someone so young _\--_ and so short _\--_ had ended up as part of the Preventers. He had an impulse to tell the girl he was a nineteen-year-old ex-Gundam pilot and terrorist who had been recruited to work for the Preventers because he'd served under Lady Une when she was part of OZ and despite the fact that he had been a double agent she still looked on him as her favourite.  
  
_Do you want the poor girl to faint?_  
  
He swallowed a smirk as she hurriedly took down his order for a bottle of mineral water, then rushed off. Leaning back in his chair, he watched the doorway carefully, and the street through the windows, waiting for Duo to turn up. At twenty minutes past one, he finally did. He charged straight into the café, looking adorably frazzled and out of breath, before finally spotting Trowa in the corner and wading his way past disgruntled customers to him.  
  
"Sorry, I'm so late," he said, grabbing a chair and throwing himself into it. Duo looked nothing near his usual neat image, with random pieces of hair sticking out of his braid in loops, like he'd slept in it and hadn't had a chance to rebraid it since. His clothes were mismatched, too: classic cut black jeans, it appears, go well with everything but a baggy green T-shirt with food stains and random tears on it. Duo yawned widely, his jaw cracking. He scratched absently at his head, eyeing Trowa with eyes that were faintly bloodshot. "Fell asleep _\--_ thought I could get up in time." He chuckled. "Not."  
  
"What would you like to drink?" Trowa asked quietly, fighting off a smirk. It was just... so Duo, to do something like this. And then to look around at the people staring at him as though they were the ones with a problem. "Beer? I can't drink, I'm on duty in half an hour, but you go ahead." Duo usually liked his beer, Trowa reasoned, plus it would make it easier to get him to talk.  
  
He wasn't prepared for Duo to wince and press a palm to his forehead as though he had a splitting headache. "No, Tro, I think I'll have water _\--_ lots of water." The last bit was muffled as Duo leaned forward and dropped his head on the table top, leaving Trowa to stare at him in surprise.  
  
_Has he got a hangover?_  
  
The other man beckoned over the waitress who had served him last, and placed Duo's order.  
  
"Have you got a hangover?" he asked, amused.  
  
An unintelligible groan was his answer.  
  
"You're just lucky it's your week off, then. Otherwise Une would have your ass for breakfast."  
  
Trowa caught a couple of nervous looks at the two at the mention of Lady Une, the Director of the Preventers. He frowned as he realised he was repressing yet another smirk. He seemed to be doing that far too often these days. Duo distracted him from his thoughts by lifting his head to rest his chin on the table, peering up at the green-eyed boy through his bangs. "So, what d'you wanna talk about, Tro-babe?"  
  
"A few things." There were far too many people watching here, Trowa decided. "Do you want to talk a walk?"  
  
"Out there?" Duo cringed. "Be nice to the man with a hangover. I'd rather not have to walk through that migraine-waiting-to-happen any longer than I have to."  
  
"Come on." Trowa stood up and tossed a few bills to the waitress, indicating they were leaving. "We'll go to the park."  
  
Duo sat up, paying more attention. "Oh yeah!" he said. "Those trees always deaden the sound pretty damn well. See, I always knew having a park in the middle of the city was good for something, now we don't have to worry about pollution no more."  
  
"So are you coming or not?" Trowa asked, amused. Duo bounced up out of his seat, accepting the bottle of mineral water he had ordered from the waitress with a grin and a thanks. Trowa led the way, weaving his way along the sidewalk with Duo following in his wake and yelling out future obstructions over his head. Sometimes, Trowa decided, it was useful to be walking along with someone over a foot taller than you. Annoying, but useful. Eventually they made their way into the thick mass of trees, and the sound of the midday traffic dropped off dramatically.  
  
Duo sighed, a beatific smile surfacing. "Ah, that is sooooo much better," he said, flopping down onto a bench and leaning his head back onto the old wood. After a moment he rolled his head to the side and opened his eyes to peer at Trowa, who was just standing there, watching him. "You got somethin' to say or not, Tro-babe?"  
  
Trowa sighed and sat down beside his friend. It was at times like these he cursed that he didn't talk as much as Duo. Sure, he knew the words to say, but it would be so much easier to say them if he was used to talking non-stop. Stop thinking about it, he scolded himself. Just ask him, damn it! How bad could it be?  
  
"Duo... you weren't... yourself, the other night. Is something wrong?"  
  
"Huh?" Yeah, nice stall, Maxwell, Duo thought sarcastically to himself. _Shit, I didn't think they'd noticed...._  
  
"At dinner," Trowa clarified.  
  
Duo rolled his head back along the edge of the bench to stare straight up at the sky, lined with the tall buildings surrounding the small patch of greenery in a sea of grey. His mind rapidly went through all the possible ways he could respond, and realised that the most favourable option _\--_ breaking his motto and flat-out lying _\--_ would never work. Even as he knew Trowa and all the other pilots better than probably anyone else on this planet, it worked the other way round as well. They knew him better than anyone had ever in his life.  
  
In the end he sighed. "I know you're worried, Tro, but it's just not something I can tell you. I've gotta work it out for myself."  
  
"Weren't you the one who told me it was often a bad idea to work things out for yourself?"  
  
Duo raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not you, Tro," he said. "When I work things out for myself, I don't end up with the wrong conclusion and get depressed and suicidal."  
  
Trowa winced. Duo sat up, a friendly hand landing on his shoulder. "Sorry, man," he apologised. "I didn't mean to just ... come out and say it like that."  
  
"Don't worry," Trowa told him flatly. "I deserved that."  
  
"Damn it, this is what I was talking about! You don't deserve it!"  
  
Surprisingly, Trowa smirked at him. "I know. You knocked that into me, remember?"  
  
Duo stared at him for a moment, then said, "Did you just make a joke?"  
  
"You decide."  
  
Despite facing straight ahead, Trowa could see Duo's half-bemused, half-incredulous expression beside him. "I will never understand you, Tro-babe."  
  
"Well, you were the one who kept on at me to change. How can you hope to understand me when you're the one who advocates me changing my way of thinking?"  
  
Duo chuckled. "You sound like Wufei. So logical."  
  
Trowa couldn't help but smirk _\--_ and this time, he couldn't repress it. "About Wufei..." he said, then the rest of his sentence degraded into a chuckle.  
  
Duo stared at him. "Tro? Are you feeling okay?"  
  
Trowa snorted, trying as hard as he could to hold back the laughter that always seemed to bubble up when he thought about Wufei and Quatre _\--_ and the circumstances he discovered it. He raised a hand to his mouth to cover the chuckles that leaked out. "There's something I have to tell you about Wufei... and Quatre...." He snorted back a chuckle again.  
  
Duo was staring at him hard now. "What about them?" he asked suspiciously. Trowa could just feel the 'Who are you and what have you done with Trowa?' comment waiting to surface.  
  
"I went to see Quatre yesterday.... He wasn't alone...."  
  
"Trowa, are you saying what I think you're saying?"  
  
"Depends on what you're thinking."  
  
"Tro!"  
  
Exercising a bit of the strength of will he had not needed since his days as a Gundam pilot, Trowa schooled his facial features and cut any trace of amusement from his voice as he told Duo precisely why he found mention of Wufei and Quatre amusing. "It appears that Quatre and Wufei had been... enjoying themselves... rather thoroughly, considering there were random pieces of clothing thrown all over the apartment... the night after our meeting at the restaurant."  
  
Duo stared at Trowa's perfectly expressionless face for a moment longer, then burst out laughing. He fell over backwards, landing with a thud against the arm of the bench, and dissolved into a fit of giggles.  
  
"I did the same thing, when I found out," Trowa told him.  
  
It took Duo a much shorter time than his companion to calm down, however. "You know, I knew Quatre was planning something," he said, eyeing those forms of wildlife stupid enough to live in a park in the middle of a big city. It was mostly pigeons.  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"He had his angelic look on around us. He only ever does that when he's planning a prank or something more... is meaningful the right word?"  
  
Trowa focused on a couple of pigeons who had landed on the other side of the path, picking at someone's discarded and half-eaten sandwich. "How long do you think it will last?" he asked quietly.  
  
"A pretty long time, I'd say. If only because they're both too stubborn to want anything but a long term relationship." Was it just him, or did Duo sound wistful? "I mean, Wufei's about as stubborn as they come, and Quatre's gotta be pretty damn tenacious to have twenty-nine older sisters and still wear the pants in that household...."  
  
"What makes you think he does?"  
  
"Huh? Well, he is the head of the family business... ."  
  
"I meant the 'wearing the pants' thing."  
  
Duo eyed him warily. "Tro, are you saying Q-bean has been keeping secrets of the transvestite kind from us all this time?"  
  
"I've seen pictures." I will not smirk I will not smirk I will not smirk....  
  
"Really?!" Duo sat bolt upright as quick as he could, then winced and clutched his head. It appeared he was still not quite over his hangover.  
  
"Um-hm. He looked quite adorable."  
  
"Adorable?"  
  
"Well, he was about four at the time, and it was on Halloween...."  
  
"Tro!" Duo's laughter echoed around the park.  
  
After a moment, Trowa checked his watch and stood. "My lunch break is almost over."  
  
"Already?" Duo pouted.  
  
"If you'd been here on time...."  
  
"I know, I know. Gomen." Sighing, the American stood, dusting off his pants. He grinned at Trowa. "So, see ya some other time?"  
  
"Yes." Trowa half-turned, then hesitated. "Duo...."  
  
Duo looked up. "Yeah, Tro-babe?"  
  
"You... you do know... that if you ever want to say something, anything, I... I'll be there, you know that, right? I _\--_ I'll listen to you... and I won't judge you _\--_ or anything," he added hastily, looking just past Duo's face so he wouldn't have to see him when he gave his speech.  
  
When Duo didn't reply, he looked directly at his friend, to see a sad look on his face. "Yeah, Tro," he said softly, eyes far older than they had any right to be, "I know."  
  
  
  
  
---  
  
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] This happens to me. All the time. I'm short -- about five foot four, though that's not entirely accurate -- and I swear if it wasn't for the fact that recently I've taken to wearing a long leather coat and chunky boots I'd still be dodging people on the street. Now, however, they avoid me! See, clothes do make a difference. One time I got so pissed off I just walked in a straight line -- I moved out of the way for old folk and things like little kids where it was just courteous for me to move -- but apart from that, I kept going. ::evil chuckle:: There was one group that seemed intent of pushing everyone off the sidewalk, so instead of walking on one side like usual I charged straight up the middle. Now that was fun!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: ANGST. Hehe, I'm torturing Duo! Yaoi, little bit o' grapefruity citrus type stuffs, eensie bit of humour, and Duo-torture. Oh wait, I already said that. . . . 
> 
> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


Both Trowa and Heero had planned on talking to Duo further that week, but it seemed like Lady Luck was not on their side. Problems cropped up out of nowhere: important mission reports and criminal warrants went missing, only to be found some hours later in some lower-level secretary's office while she'd been doing filing; the computer systems crashed three times; a couple who worked together in the same office had a rather noisy break-up and set the rest of them on edge for the whole week.  
  
So the two lovers were counting their lucky stars when Quatre announced he wanted to have a party for the five of them, to celebrate the end of an awful week. Duo smirked down the vidphone at the blond boy when told of what had occurred, saying that 'Wasn't it just the Maxwell luck that I picked this week to get off work?'  
  
Quatre had responded with, "I thought the Maxwell luck was bad luck. Like Murphy's Law."  
  
Duo had grinned. "Yup! So it's the Maxwell luck that I wasn't there to enjoy myself _\--_ and give Une an apoplexy!"  
  
"Duo, that joke wasn't even worth a groan."  
  
Duo had just laughed and told him he'd be there.  
  
So that Saturday Duo was waiting outside Quatre's apartment for the little blond to come unlock the door. _That's what you get for having a party with Mr Paranoid and the Suspicious,_ Duo thought wryly to himself. Eventually, after much swearing that drifted through the door, and Quatre yelling to Heero that 'not all of us can bend steel or open a lock after you're through with it, you know, so next time would you be a little kinder to the poor lock', the door was finally opened.  
  
"Phew!" Quatre blew his messy blond bangs out of his face, then grinned up _\--_ _way_ up _\--_ at his friend. "Sorry about that. Heero's on a macho streak."  
  
"Am not," the man in question called through to the hallway.  
  
Duo looked quizzically at Quatre. "Is he drunk?"  
  
"If he's not yet, he will be soon," was the cheerful reply.  
  
"Ah." The braided American bounced his way into the apartment, leaving Quatre to lock the door and mutter under his breath 'now THIS is the proper way to lock the damn door, Yuy' and try not to snicker.  
  
"Hey guys! Having fun? Y'know, Heero, if you didn't want me to come you just had to say so. You didn't have to mangle Q's lock." Duo pouted, pretending to be hurt, and threw himself on the couch beside Wufei, taking his beer out of his hand. "Thanks, Wuffers!"  
  
"Maxwell! First of all, my name is not 'Wuffers', and second of all, _that's my beer_!"  
  
"It is?" Duo looked at it curiously. "Looks like mine now." He grinned at his friend, then swallowed what was left in the can.  
  
Surveying the room left Duo suppressing a giggle. Trowa looked fine; he was seated on the far end of the other couch, one long, jean-clad leg crossed over the other and eyeing his lover warily through his curtain of bangs. He had a glass in his hand, rather than a can, and Duo could see it was mostly full.  
  
Wufei was fine, as well; besides turning red and sputtering about Duo's 'miscarriage of justice', that is. It seemed Quatre had managed to talk him into wearing something other than his traditional white clothes from his clan or his Preventers uniform, so now the Chinese boy was actually looking quite attractive in a pair of black tailored slacks and a cream shirt. Duo didn't think he'd had more than one can of beer so far, and he'd just finished that off for him. Quatre was obviously fine, besides swearing repeatedly at the lock _\--_ and having had the good sense _not_ to wear the pink shirt and vest. Q-bean looked much better in blue, Duo reflected.  
  
Heero, on the other hand. . . .  
  
Well, like Quatre said, if he wasn't drunk yet, he would be soon.  
  
. . . but _lego_?  
  
"Hey, Q!" Duo called out to the hallway. "Did you give Heero the lego, or did he bring it himself?"  
  
"I have no idea where he found it," Quatre replied, making his way into the room, "but it was here in this apartment. I think the previous owners must have left it."  
  
Duo grinned at him. "Ah, well, at least we know he's doing something constructive with his time."  
  
"Duo," the man in question said, not slurring despite the fact he'd apparently fallen off the end of the couch and was now having difficulty sitting upright.  
  
"Yeah, Hee-chan?"  
  
"Don't call me that. And that wasn't funny."  
  
"Oh? You tell a joke then," Duo said, sensing a chance to see whether or not a drunk Heero _\--_ which he'd never previously encountered _\--_ was more fun than a sober Heero.  
  
"Hn. How did the blonde burn her ear?"  
  
Duo blinked. _Okay. . . . Humour him._ "I don't know, Hee-chan," he said, "how did the blonde burn her ear?"  
  
"She was ironing and the phone rang," he said flatly, as though relating someone's death.  
  
Duo stared.  
  
Wufei stared.  
  
Quatre stared.  
  
Trowa stared . . . okay, nothing new there.  
  
Duo said, "You know, Heero, that was actually pretty funny." And promptly collapsed into giggles.  
  
"Who would've thought it?" Wufei said. "He has a sense of humour."  
  
"Oh? And you do, too, I suppose?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Then how come I'm the only one laughing?"  
  
"I don't laugh," Trowa said, and took a sip of his drink.  
  
Duo turned to Quatre, who was still standing, staring at Heero. "Aw, Q, don't tell me you're offended by blonde jokes?"  
  
Quatre blinked and seemed to shake himself out of it. "Oh, no, of course not," he said. "It's just. . . ."  
  
"Where's the beer?" the American pilot interrupted.  
  
"In the kitchen. I'll show you." Trowa unfolded his legs and stood, not waiting for Duo to reply before making his way into the kitchen.  
  
"Hey, thanks, Tro! I need a drink to calm me down after that. . . ." his voice trailed off as the door swung shut.  
  
There was silence in the room for a moment.  
  
Then, "Look! Lego Wing!"  
  
Quatre covered his eyes and groaned. "This is going to be a long night," he sighed, then made a beeline for the kitchen. "I need a beer."  
  
Wufei frowned after him, then called, "But you don't drink!"  
  
"So this is a good time to start!"  
  
+  
  
Four hours later:  
  
"Okay, Hee~ro's turn!" Duo said, slurring more than slightly and feeling wonderfully drunk.   
  
"Whaddaya pick?"  
  
"Dare," the boy said, still not slurring and having even more trouble staying upright.  
  
The former terrorists that had been feared throughout the Earth Sphere were currently involved in a modified game of Truth or Dare. It involved everyone having to have either a dare or a question from every other person in the room, with a shot of . . . whatever they were drinking . . . afterwards. They had to have twice the number of shots if they failed.  
  
"Hokay!" Duo said, then slumped back against the foot of the couch, thinking. They had all migrated to the floor _\--_ it appeared to be a lot safer that way.  
  
After a long, silent moment, Wufei poked Duo in the ribs. He woke up with a yelp.  
  
"Jeezus, Wu-man, I was jus' thinkin'!"  
  
Wufei snickered, then tipped his can up over his mouth. When nothing came out, he frowned at it. "I need more beer," he announced, then stood up, wobbled, took a step and tripped. Quatre caught him, giggling.  
  
"I'll come help," he said, and the two staggered their way into the kitchen.  
  
Trowa was giggling quietly on the floor, Heero resting between his legs and going cross-eyed from staring at the bottle in his hands. Quatre had stocked up with a great supply of alcoholic beverages for this one occasion, it seemed.  
  
Heero tried to glare at Duo, and ended up glaring at the tip of his nose. "The dare," he growled. Being drunk hadn't made him any more congenial.  
  
"Um . . . hokay! I fink I goddit!"  
  
It took a moment for that to be translated as 'I think I got it'.  
  
"Then what, baka?"  
  
"You gotta run 'round the room like yousa birdy! Tweet, tweet!" Duo fell over backwards laughing, apparently very amused at the thought of Heero flapping his arms and going 'tweet'.  
  
"Ninmu ryoukai," Heero pronounced slowly and carefully, then stood equally slowly and carefully, Trowa's hands on his butt most likely being one of the only things keeping him from falling down. He drew in a deep breath, raised his arms, and charged.  
  
Or tried to.  
  
What he ended up doing was tripping over Trowa's ankle and landing flat on his face on the floor. A muffled sound came from the vicinity of his face, buried in the carpet; "Tweet?"  
  
Duo was rolling around on the floor in hysterics. "Hokay, tha's goo' 'nough," he slurred ('Okay, that's good enough'), leaving the still-giggling Trowa to gather his lover into his arms from his sprawl on the floor. He rolled onto his back and upended his can over his face, mouth open and expecting more beer. Nothing came out, so he stuck his tongue out in case some drops had decided to take a detour. Nope, still nothing.  
  
"Nee' more beer," he said, and got himself to his feet. Unlike the rest of the pilots (minus Trowa, who hadn't moved since he'd started drinking), Duo knew he was far better at walking when drunk than they were. He just couldn't control his speech patterns.  
  
Duo was in a good mood. He had his friends all around him, he was completely shit-faced, and there was more beer in the kitchen. Yes, life was good.  
  
What happened next sent his mood plunging to rock bottom.  
  
Opening the door he looked up to see Quatre leaning against the table, Wufei pressed snugly in front of him. They were kissing, but it wasn't the simple fact that they were kissing that sent his mood plunging down, it was the _way_ they were kissing.  
  
Quatre's hands were curled up to cup Wufei's face, one of the other's hands twining in his hair and the other arm around his waist. This wasn't a sort of 'I'm-horny-you're-cute-we-need-a-room-now' kiss, it went far deeper than that. Even completely drunk, it was a 'You're-beautiful-I-love-you' kiss. Barely any tongue, soft and slow and sweet, passion there but secondary.  
  
And it caused a savage sting of jealousy to shoot through Duo, not because he wanted either one of them particularly, but because no one had ever kissed him like that. No one had ever cared enough to kiss him like that.  
  
He swung around sharply, grin gone, just having to get away from that sight and the feelings it stirred.  
  
What he got was worse.  
  
Heero was once again nestled back against Trowa's chest, the other's arms snugly around his waist. They were murmuring to each other softly, Trowa nuzzling the Japanese man's cheek. Heero had a soft smile on his face, as did Trowa, both fairly radiating contentment and happiness. It was like a sucker-punch to the stomach.  
  
Duo suddenly found it hard to breathe, pain in his chest constricting and blocking out the evening's drunken happiness. It _hurt_. It hurt to see Quatre and Wufei sharing something no one had ever thought to give to him. It hurt to see the two people he cared about the most _\--_ _loved_ the most _\--_ in the world completely happy and content with no need for him. It was selfish, but it hurt. It hurt that he, the most social of all his friends, was the one left alone. That they'd all found people to be with, people to love, and had left him standing there and staring at them in envy, knowing with a certainty that was buried deep in his bones that he didn't have that and he was likely to never have that.  
  
It hurt.  
  
He couldn't stand to be in the room with them any longer. It felt like the walls were closing in, like there wasn't enough air to breathe, like someone had placed a steel band around his chest and was tightening it and tightening it and tightening it until the pain was too much, it was too much, it wasn't supposed to _hurt_ like this _\--_   
  
Duo suddenly focused on one thing of the scene in front of him. Heero's hand was resting on top of Trowa's arm, the fingertips slowly stroking back and forth across his lover's wrist. In response, Trowa's arms tightened, holding the other man possessively close. And all Duo could see was those fingers, still moving so gently, so softly across that skin, when all he wanted was for those arms to be around him and for those fingers to be touching him like that, so gentle, so _loving_ _\--_ But they weren't. And they never would.  
  
_I have to get out._  
  
Duo bolted for the door, shoving his feet into his boots without bothering with the laces, grabbed his jacket and yanked open the locks. He could hear Quatre calling out to him, worry in his voice, but he had the locks undone and was running away before the Arabian could get anywhere near him to ask him what was wrong.  
  
He ran all the way home.  
  
---


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


When Duo woke, it was to some painful realisations.  
  
He was sprawled on the floor in front of his door, having slid down the fake wood and slumped on the floor the night before, staring blindly ahead through tears. It appeared he'd cried himself to sleep, a thought that had him scrubbing at his cheeks and staggering into the bathroom to splash water onto his cheeks, trying to pretend that he _\--_ him, Duo Maxwell, Shi no Kami _\--_ had not been so stupidly emotional as to _cry himself to sleep_.  
  
His head was pounding, and his mouth felt like someone had poured sand in it. He fished a pint glass out of the cabinet and filled it to the brim with water, chugging it down faster than was good for him, and refilling immediately after.  
  
Moving to the kitchen table, he set the glass down and pulled a chair out, seating himself while still in the last night's jeans and shirt. He stared at it, the light streaming in from the windows refracting inside and causing a crystalline fragmentation where it exited, spreading into all the colours contained within it, fallen onto the white plastic like it was a stained glass window in a cathedral.  
  
_Funny how lyrical I get when I'm alone._  
  
His arm slid onto the table to land with a thud, jarring the glass of water and breaking up the spectrum of colours on the table. His head slowly slid itself down to rest half on his biceps and half on the table.  
  
_I was drunk._

_I was overly emotional._

_I overreacted._

_As Wufei would say, I acted like an onna._

_. . . why does all of that sound false?_

Duo shut his eyes, the edges tensing up in pain. It wasn't the pain of his hangover, which had receded to a dull pounding in his skull, but the remembered, gut-wrenching pain he had felt last night. And he had an answer to that question.  
  
_Because when I replay that scene, it hurts more than it did when I was drunk._  
  
He sighed and sat up, taking a drink from his glass. Exhaling another sigh, he shut his eyes and rubbed the crease between his brows with the tip of two of his fingers. _Okay, Maxwell,_ he thought to himself. _Time for a long, internal chat. And no hiding behind lame excuses, this time._  
  
He leaned back in his chair, staring contemplatively at the ceiling. He wasn't really seeing it. _So, even though you've never had a thought like that about either Quatre or Wufei, seeing them together hurt like someone stabbed you. Because even though their relationship is so new, they're already showing they're not in it for sex or a quick fling. You're jealous of them because they're happy together and they want to stay together._  
  
Duo frowned. "That doesn't mean I'm not happy for them," he murmured.  
  
_Of course not. It just means that you're jealous of what they have together, that you want that kind of thing for yourself. Not that you're a bad person because of it. Everyone wants someone to love them, except you don't want just anyone, do you?_  
  
Duo winced, and shut his eyes. "No," he whispered.  
  
_You want your two best friends. Not one or the other, both of them._  
  
"Threesomes don't work," he whispered. "Not in the long term. Besides, why would they want me? They have each other, and I don't want to tear them apart."  
  
_But you could, couldn't you? You could wrench them away from each other so easily. They feel they owe you. Sometimes it's like they feel they owe you so much that they have to have your approval for everything. How much do you want to bet that if you were angry at them for their relationship they would have stopped, just to make you happy?_  
  
Duo shook his head, braid flying with the vehement motion. "No. No. They know I want them to be happy. . . . They might be screwed up, but not that bad . . . I think. . . . Anyway, they know they don't need my approval. They know that."  
  
_Aa, but what if they want it? Remember how they sounded when you didn't congratulate them straight away . . . so uncertain, so hesitant. . . . Whether they realise it or not, they need you. And it would be so easy to take advantage of that._  
  
"I can't believe I'm thinking this! I would never do that!"  
  
_Not consciously._  
  
"So you think I would subconsciously give out signals to them, that I wasn't happy with their relationship, that I didn't approve, that I was so jealous? It might be true _\--_ the last one, anyway _\--_ but that doesn't mean I'd do it! What do you take me for?" He shook his head in disgust. "This is stupid. I _\--_ "  
  
_Isn't that what you've been doing?_  
  
Duo froze.  
  
Oh God . . . oh God, what if he had? . . . What if he _had_ been sending out those signals, like at the restaurant, and his talk with Trowa, and then the party last night. . . .  
  
He shoved away from the table and shot to his feet, staring wildly without seeing.  
  
_Oh God. . . ._  
  
He buried his face in his hands. "Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, over and over again, fingers curving into claws and digging his nails into his forehead.  
  
_So, what are you going to do about it?_  
  
For the second time in half a minute, Duo froze. He slowly lowered his hands, staring at them. "Stop," he said, so softly it was barely more than a breath.  
  
_Stop what?_  
  
"Stop . . . stop sending signals."  
  
_Oh?_ He swore his inner voice sounded amused. _And you really think you can do that?_  
  
Duo lifted his eyes beyond his hands and moved them to the glass of water still resting quietly on the tabletop. His jaw set, his brows lowered, and he nodded once, decisively. "Yes," he said in a voice full of conviction, violet eyes sparking with the familiar fire of purpose _\--_ the fire of a mission.  
  
_How?_  
  
"I'll find someone of my own, of course," he said. "Someone who _I_ can cradle in my arms when I'm dead drunk, someone I can kiss in the kitchen, someone . . . someone I can love. Someone I can really love."  
  
_If you say so._ With that, the voice faded into the background of his mind, taking its doubt of whether or not he could truly do that with it, leaving a trail of amusement that slowly faded as its passage passed.  
  
Duo clenched his hands into fists, and smirked at the empty room. He would do it. He would fill the empty ache inside him and keep his friends from being torn apart at the same time. He would find someone who could love all of Duo Maxwell, no holds barred, and he would love them in return. He would _make_ himself love them in return. After all, how hard could it be?  
  
---


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was depressing. Don't worry, it gets worse. 
> 
> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


_After all, how hard could it be?_  
  
Damn hard.  
  
Duo sighed and stared across the table at the flavour of the week. This one had actually shown some promise _\--_ sure, the guy was a transvestite and Duo was into more manly men _\--_ _Heero and Trowa -- shut up!_ _\--_ but he liked girls, too, so he thought it might be okay. The guy, who insisted on being called Esmerelda for reasons unknown, had seemed pretty intelligent when he first spoke to him and asked him out. So why did he insist on babbling non-stop about handbags and shoes?  
  
Duo shoved the remains of his dinner around his plate with his fork, listening with half an ear as 'Esmerelda' waved his arms _\--_ which he had actually _waxed_ to remove hair _\--_ and set all his multitude of bracelets and bangles to jangling as he gestured wildly, making some point about some French guy who had started out so promising and now had turned all dowdy _\--_   
  
"Are you even listening to me?"  
  
Duo blinked and looked up into frowning brown eyes. 'Esmerelda' was cute, that's for sure _\--_ shoulder length straight brown-black hair, half up and half down, eyes that were nearly the same deep colour as Wufei's, a generous mouth that seemed naturally red and a pointed little chin that just made him look cute.  
  
But he was so _dull_. Even when he was being interesting he was dull.  
  
Duo sighed and repeated everything 'Esmerelda' _\--_ he had a feeling his real name was Frank _\--_ straight back at him verbatim. Looks like G's training had some use after all.  
  
Esmerelda-Frank dropped his fork onto his plate and folded his arms on the edge of the table, staring straight across at Duo. "You're bored, aren't you?" he asked.  
  
Duo blinked. Nobody else had ever been this straightforward with him. "To be honest, I am," he said frankly. "I'm sorry, I really wanted to enjoy your company and have fun, but... ."  
  
"It just didn't click," Esmerelda-Frank finished softly for him.  
  
The American sighed. "Yeah."  
  
That generous mouth twisted up on one side in a lopsided smirk. "Happens a lot to me," he said.  
  
Duo winced. "Sorry," he offered lamely.  
  
"Don't worry." Reaching down, he picked up his purse and checked through the contents. "You want to get the bill or should I?"  
  
"I'll pay," Duo said swiftly, then returned the lopsided grin. "Seeing as how I ruined your evening and all."  
  
"Oh, who said it was ruined?" Esmerelda-Frank smiled. "It wasn't right for either of us."  
  
"Aa."  
  
"Besides, you're cute."  
  
Duo couldn't think of a damned thing to say to that.  
  
After paying the bill, Duo dropped Esmerelda-Frank off outside his apartment block. The transvestite left with a "Thanks for the meal. I hope you find what you're looking for."  
  
On returning to his apartment, Duo threw himself down on the bed with his arms spread-eagled, letting his breath escape his chest in a rush. Esmerelda-Frank had been one of the better ones, but it still wasn't right. He shuddered involuntarily. He didn't want to think about the pro-war one who'd somehow found out he was a Gundam pilot and spent the whole date drilling for details (ouch!) or the one who seemed to be in love with her poodle, or the one who was virulently against any sort of violence towards any living creature, and seemed to put carrots at the top of that list for some reason... .  
  
"Face it Maxwell," he said out loud, the words echoing around his empty apartment. "It's just too damn hard to find someone who understands."  
  
And that was the clinch.  
  
How many people in the world would understand life from the point of view of a soldier? The wars had been too big a part of his life for him not to be with someone who would understand. So there were the veterans of the Eve Wars, but how many of them were not either ex-OZ or ex-White Fang? Those two wouldn't look kindly on ex-Gundam pilots, as Duo had found out one time when an ex-OZ officer had recognised him in the street, walked right up and spat in his face.  
  
Even if he did manage to find someone who understood and had not been with OZ or White Fang, how many of them would understand life as a terrorist? Forsaking what people deemed to be the most necessary part of your life _\--_ education _\--_ in order to go around blowing up bases?  
  
How many people would tolerate their partner, knowing that he was responsible for the death of hundreds, if not thousands, of people? Even if they were soldiers on the other side, who would live their life with AC 195's Osama bin Laden? Because without the civilian casualties, that's what he was. Him and the other pilots.  
  
Except they caused far more damage than the terrorist faction of the pre-colony era.  
  
And barring that, how many people would understand _him_? Grown up without a name on the streets of L2, living for a while in a church that was bombed to the ground, always being the last child in the orphanage? How many people could understand that?  
  
Not even Quatre or Wufei would understand that.  
  
Duo shut his eyes in despair. Every time he thought about it using his gut instinct combined with logic, which had never failed him before no matter what, it always came down to one conclusion: there was never, nor would their ever be, anyone for him except Trowa or Heero.  
  
_Or both,_ that irritating little voice whispered.  
  
_Shut up!_ he yelled back. _I swore I would never try and break them apart, and threesomes don't work!_  
  
Duo brought his hands to his face, rubbing the heels over his tired eyes. "Am I always going to be alone?" he whispered to a god he didn't believe in, hands still covering his eyes. "Is that what you're trying to tell me, like you did with Solo and Father Maxwell and Sister Helen? That I'm supposed to be alone?"  
  
The pale moonlight that shone in through the window glinted on the small drop of silver that slid down his temple.  
  
"Oh God ... will I always be alone? ..."  
  
The words echoed in the empty apartment.  
  
_Alone ... alone ... alone..._  
  
---


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


"YES! FINALLY!"  
  
Duo's head shot up and he stared incredulously at Trowa, who had leapt out of his seat waving a printout over his head in a completely out of character display of exuberance. The green-eyed man charged through the office towards his lover, leaving turned heads and curious looks in his wake, and dropped the piece of paper in front of him. Even from his desk across the wide expanse of Preventers HQ head office, Duo could hear the other man say, "Suck on _that_ , Yuy!"  
  
He was up and out of his seat before he'd even finished the thought.  
  
"Hey guys," Duo said brightly, jogging up. "What's up? You're makin' a bit of a scene, Tro-babe."  
  
"I _finally_ got a mission!" Trowa told him. "I was beginning to think Une wanted me to put down roots in the office."  
  
"Well, you are her favourite baby boy, after all," Duo said, eyes wide with mischief. "Maybe she wanted you close for nefarious purposes of her own _\--_ don't stay too late in the office, Tro, we don't want Heero to get jealous!" "Duo," said man intoned flatly.  
  
"Yeah, Hee-chan?"  
  
"Don't call me that. And shut up."  
  
Duo grinned and gave the back of his head a mock salute. "Yes, sir!" he said, then clapped Trowa on the shoulder. "Good luck with your mission, Tro," he said cheerfully. "Try not to get blown up." He then flounced back off to his desk, leaving Trowa shaking his head and Heero glaring after him.  
  
+  
  
Trowa's mission had him leave three days later. It was dangerous; they'd been given a tip about a reputedly vicious gang which they knew had been selling arms illegally had now branched out into smuggling Gundanium in large amounts. Nobody ever needed that much Gundanium for anything other than a mobile suit, so Trowa had been sent to go in undercover and leak out information in order to pin the crime on them and be able to legally prosecute.  
  
Duo was worried about his friend, but that was nothing unusual. He always worried about any of them whenever they went out on missions. Once back in his lonely apartment, TV on for noise and comfort value rather than entertainment, he wondered if any of the others worried about him.  
  
_Quatre will,_ he thought with a snort. _But I wonder if --_  
  
Whatever he wondered was cut short when the phone rang. Answering it, he got the familiar scowl of his favourite prank target.  
  
"Hey Heero," he said brightly.  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Whatcha call for?"  
  
There was a long silence.  
  
Then, "I'm sorry, I'll _\--_ "  
  
Suddenly, it clicked. _His lover's left on the first mission he's had since they became lovers,_ Duo realised. _Not only that, it's potentially -- hell,_ definitely _\-- extremely dangerous._  
  
_And he's scared._  
  
"Do you want me to come over?"  
  
Heero just looked at him, then nodded jerkily. The vidphone screen went blank.  
  
Duo smiled at it sadly. "Good ol' Heero, scared of his emotions." He shook his head and sighed, then went hunting for his boots.  
  
At least tonight he wouldn't be alone.  
  
+  
  
It was well into the night, and Heero and Duo were seated on the living room floor in Heero and Trowa's apartment. Duo had decided it was his solemn duty to get Heero drop-dead drunk, but since Heero would never subject himself to a condition that others weren't getting into, he was now finding himself more than a little shit-faced too. Empty bottles and beer cans littered the floor.  
  
They sat opposite each other, Heero leaning against the wall with his long jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, Duo leaning against the sofa with one black clad leg stretched out and the other bent so he could rest his current bottle on his knee.  
  
"Say, Hee~ro," Duo slurred, making an effort to pronounce everything clearly. "D'you ever get worried?"  
  
"About what?" the Japanese man asked, staring straight ahead and taking a drink out of his can. It appeared he wasn't a happy drunk tonight.  
  
"'Bout us," Duo said, waving his arms expansively and nearly knocking the lamp off the table.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"When we go on missions 'n stuff."  
  
Heero froze, and Duo suddenly realised what he'd said. _Way to bring up what he's tense over, Maxwell,_ he thought sarcastically to himself through the comforting haze of alcohol.  
  
"Do you?"  
  
Duo's eyebrow twitched. _Wasn't expecting that,_ he thought. _Omae o korosu, maybe, but not that. . . ._ "Yep, sure do," he said cheerfully, and squinted into his bottle to see if there was any left. Satisfied their was, he took a drink.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Heero was focusing on him now, intense blue eyes (even when dead drunk) boring a hole into his. Duo swirled his mouthful of beer around thoughtfully, savouring the acrid taste before swallowing. "I's not 'coz I don't 'spect you guys 'n all," he said slowly, "i's jus' that you gotta partner on missions if y' like it or not, an' I never think tha' they c'n do as good a job as I c'n." Satisfied with his explanation, Duo took another drink.  
  
It took Heero's beer-fuddled brain a while to translate that into "It's not because I don't respect you guys and all, it's just that you've got a partner on missions if you like it or not, and I never think that they can do as good a job as I can."  
  
Heero pondered that for a while, with Duo content to be quiet for once, then idly took another drink. "Do you worry about me?" he asked suddenly.  
  
Duo looked up in surprise. "'Course," he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Y' kept tryin' t' blow yerself up in the wars, an' then you go an' ask me that?"  
  
"So you worry about me because I self-destructed?"  
  
"Naw, I worry 'bout you 'coz you're my f-f-friend," he said, enunciating the last word slowly and clearly, then grinned. "An' my _friend_ likes t' blow himself up."  
  
Heero frowned, thinking this through, then said, "Why did you run out of Quatre's apartment the other day?" Duo had long ago decided to answer any question of this kind with a flat-out lie, breaking his motto or not. "I did?" he answered in seeming amazement. "I don' 'member none o' that!" He giggled. "'Course, I was com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced, so I's not surprisin'. . . ."  
  
Heero appeared to accept this, frowning for a moment, then finishing off his can. "You want another beer?" he asked.  
  
Duo's mouth twisted comically, and he held his bottle up and head height and peered into it as though it held the secrets to the universe. After a long moment's deliberation, he said, "Nope! I'm already com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced, s' I'd bett'r stop." He liked saying 'com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced'.  
  
"Okay." Heero attempted to stand, leaning heavily against the wall. He staggered in the direction of the kitchen and what was left of his supply of beer, then tripped over his own feet and began a nasty fall. He didn't finish it because Duo lunged to catch him.  
  
"Y'know what, bud~dy," he slurred. "I fink you've had 'nough too." He shifted so Heero's arm was over his shoulders and his around the Japanese man's waist, and hauled on his friend, tugging him towards the bedroom. "I's gonna put yooooo t' bed, an' them 'm gonna go crash on the couch. S'okay?"  
  
"S'okay," Heero muttered, trying to focus on making his feet go one in front of the other, not one in front of Duo's.  
  
Eventually they managed to manoeuvre themselves into the bedroom, and Duo dropped Heero on the bed. He intended to make his way back into the disaster area of the living room, but found himself somehow on his back on the bed with Heero looming over him.  
  
"Stay," the other man breathed, then swooped in and kissed him fiercely.  
  
There was a reason he shouldn't be doing this, Duo thought. There was a reason . . . a niggling little reason that stayed in the back of his mind and whispered to him what he was doing was wrong, wrong. . . . But he couldn't quite figure out why. . . .  
  
Heero had his shirt undone by now, and was running calloused fingers over his nipples, still kissing Duo fiercely. Fire swept through him, his own panting breath drowning out the sound of that little voice in the back of his mind. His arms tightened around Heero, and he was swept away into the passion Heero's hands and lips were inducing.  
  
He'd work it out in the morning.  
  
---


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> italics = thoughts/emphasis, and in this case flashbacks too.
> 
> Warnings: angst, yaoi, lime-y flashbacks 
> 
> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


_Ugh . . . my head._  
  
The sun was shining far too brightly into the room, Duo decided. It stabbed into his aching skull, amplifying the pounding there was a gleeful little troop of demons became energised by it, swinging their sledgehammers with more purpose and energy in his brain.  
  
Duo yanked the covers over his head and scrunched his eyes up tight, burrowing further into their dark comfort and edging away from the light.  
  
He came into contact with something, warm, hard, and undeniably solid.  
  
Despite the pain in his head, Duo's eyes flared open and he shot upright, staring around wildly.  
  
_This . . . this isn't my room._

_What? . . ._

The someone in bed with him sighed and rolled over, still sleeping deeply. More deeply than he had ever been able to during the war.  
  
And Duo came face to face with his worst nightmare.  
  
Heero looked beautiful in the morning. His dark bangs were ruffled more than usual, lips swollen. There was an unmistakeable hickey on his neck.  
  
And suddenly Duo remembered what happened last night.  
  
_\-- hands sliding down my hips, bucking uncontrollably and begging for contact --_  
  
"No," Duo whispered.  
  
_\-- warm mouth everywhere, my lips, my neck, my chest --_  
  
"Oh God," he whimpered, struggling to untangle himself from the bedcovers.  
  
_\-- my voice, whimpering "Heero, please. . . ." --_  
  
Duo fell out of the bed with a thud, legs still partially tangled in the sheet. He scrambled backwards as fast as he could, searching for his clothes.  
  
_\-- blue eyes staring down at me, passion --_  
  
"Shit!"  
  
_\-- my leg over his shoulder, his lips nuzzling my the side of my knee so gently while I moan, his fingers inside me --_  
  
Duo found his jeans and yanked them on, not bothering with underwear.  
  
_\-- he's in me, he's in me, oh God I feel --_  
  
Where was his damn shirt? He found it half-hidden under Heero's jeans and yanked it out, throwing it on quickly.  
  
_\-- I feel --_  
  
"Shoes," he muttered, getting away from that room and the betrayal it held as fast as he could. He couldn't stay there, couldn't be there when Heero woke up.  
  
Heero. . . .  
  
_\-- "HEERO!" --_  
  
He had to get out.  
  
_\-- "DUO!" --_  
  
He yanked on his shoes, not bothering with the laces and grabbed his jacket, slamming the door on his exit.  
  
---


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::Lizards:: = sound effects  
> [Lizards] = song lyrics
> 
> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


Three days later and Duo had still not ventured out from his apartment. He knew he was being selfish; he knew he was being cowardly; he just didn't care. He _couldn't_ go out there and face the horrible condemnation of the only people in the world he dared to call his friends, and the deep-seated knowledge that no matter how hard he had tried, he had betrayed one of those friends in the worst possible way.  
  
There were several messages on the answering machine, none of which Duo had picked up on. Une had called first, asking why the hell he wasn't at work and informing him that if he didn't get his butt down there ASAP, best stealth and explosives operative or no, she would fire his ass.  
  
He didn't pick up the phone.  
  
Quatre called, sounding worried, telling him that Heero hadn't come into work either and wasn't answering his phone. He asked what was wrong, then left him with a 'no pressure' remark.  
  
_Sure, Q. No pressure._  
  
The second day, Heero called.  
  
::"Trowa comes home tonight,":: came the blunt opening statement. ::"I'm going to tell him.":: Then the line went dead. Duo remained hunched up in a foetal ball under the covers in his bedroom, not moving. Deep inside there was the stabbing knowledge that he was a traitor. He had done the unforgivable. Not even all those deaths during the war and the previous loss of everyone he cared about could compare to this. He was now everything he despised.  
  
_Traitor._  
  
Duo flinched, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his head into his pillow, cold and damp from all the tears he'd shed. So much for boys don't cry.  
  
_Worthless piece of trash._  
  
He whimpered, clutching his knees to his chest but not even venturing to defend himself, knowing it was all true. Why defend yourself against the truth?  
  
_So you pretend to be their friends, supposedly HELPING them with their problems, so you can go around and tear it all down? So much for not tearing them apart. Guess you do lie, even if it's only to yourself._  
  
It was all true. The scorn, the derision in the voice was what he deserved.  
  
_The only way you could possible atone would be to go over there and submit to whatever Trowa wants to do to you for betraying him like this. Let him yell at you, let him beat the shit out of you._  
  
_Except you won't._  
  
_Because deep down inside, you're still a little coward, aren't you? Too afraid to face up to his own mistakes. Instead you run, like you always do. And once you've run, you hide._  
  
_Too bad you can't lie, at least not about this. Everything else is free game, isn't it?_  
  
_So we're just going to wait here until Trowa calls, or comes here, and then you're going to take what you deserve, aren't you?_  
  
_Because you're too much of a coward to go over there and volunteer yourself._  
  
Strangely enough, Duo's internal monologue was comforting. The only way his guilt would die would be through penance, and even if it was just having Trowa never trusting him again, it cut him to his core and it would only be what he deserved.  
  
He wondered if he was a closet masochist. Maybe that explained why he had so conveniently 'forgotten' that Heero was with Trowa that night, alcohol or no. After all, wouldn't it explain why the possibility _\--_ no, the certainty _\--_ that Trowa would give him the treatment he deserved made him feel better, even if the reason for that was so simple as that there was an end in sight. He had to be a masochist . . . otherwise . . . why would he keep remembering how good it had been. . . ?  
  
Even when drop-dead drunk, Heero had touched him like no one had before. Sex normally felt empty: during his time between the destruction of Maxwell Church and him sneaking away on the Sweepers' ship, it had been one of his outlets. Cheap, meaningless sex to simply let him forget for a moment. After a while, though, it hadn't been enough, and he'd forced himself to think through everything he'd been through before he destroyed more than himself, and come to terms with it. When he'd been dating recently, he'd only tried sex once with one of his dates, but it had been as empty as always and had sent him flying back into memories of those times. That was something he didn't need. But. . . .  
  
Heero. . . .  
  
Duo rolled onto his back, clenching his jaw so tight it hurt, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes until bright white sparks shot across his vision, the reflection of the pain in his head. It took his mind off everything, for a while. Idly, he wondered how long he could keep doing this. How long he could huddle in his bed, never really sleeping, contemplating the self-destructive path he had been on, before he went out and did it all again. Did it all again to prove to himself and that derisive voice in his head that he was and always would be street trash. You can take the rat off the street, but you can't take the street out of the rat. He was living proof of that, wasn't he?  
  
::RAP RAP!::  
  
Two short, decisive knocks on his door. Duo found himself idly dissecting the sound of those knocks, wondering whether it was worth getting up for. Short, loud, no hesitance. So it was either Relena thinking Heero was in his apartment (except she wouldn't have left it at two knocks) or Trowa.  
  
_Time to face the music._  
  
Duo slowly stood up, noting with a muted sense of alarm how the muscles in his legs trembled with weakness and fatigue, and made his way towards the door. He was still in his jeans and three-day-old shirt; he stank, but at least he was dressed. Who cared if his braid was falling apart? Not him.  
  
He was functioning in a strange sort of detachment as he moved towards the door, like he was a spectator in his own head. It wasn't him that shuffled across the short distance from his bedroom to the door, focused on the door so hard everything else faded around the edges; it wasn't his hand that reached out to the handle; it wasn't him who saw its trembling and snatched it back. It wasn't him who took a deep breath, then reached out and opened the door. He came back to himself with a rush when he met Trowa's green eyes, staring up at him through his curtain, his _mask_ of bangs, face set flat and expressionless.  
  
Dimly he knew he should be saying something, telling his friend how sorry he was to betray his trust, how he had never meant it to happen, how drunk he had been and how Heero had just seemed to need something so bad. . . . And, if he was honest, how he had needed something _\--_ _anything_ _\--_ too. . . .  
  
He said nothing.  
  
Trowa broke the silence, speaking quietly. Not softly, not softly at all. "Get your coat."  
  
Duo nodded and shoved his feet into the boots waiting beside the door, throwing on his jacket. He stepped out the door and locked it, following Trowa down the hall.  
  
It was plainly obvious they were headed for Heero and Trowa's apartment. The two walked side by side in silence, the late night streets empty of life along the short stretch of sidewalk between Duo's apartment building and . . . the other's. He didn't dare call him his friend any longer. That was up to Trowa to decide.  
  
Trowa opened the door and led the way up the stairs in perfect silence. Duo wasn't going to be the first to speak, either _\--_ he needed to hear Trowa out first. Needed to.  
  
Once inside the familiar apartment, Trowa gestured eloquently to the living room. Duo walked through the door and stopped in the middle of the room, feeling more out of place than he ever had before.  
  
Heero was seated on the couch opposite the door. He caught Duo's eyes as he walked in, and the expression on his face . . . it. . . . Duo didn't know how to describe it. Heero was just looking at him, with something in his eyes he'd never seen there before . . . but it wasn't angry. It wasn't guilty. It . . . he didn't know what it was.  
  
Duo looked away.  
  
"Sit," Trowa said from behind him. Duo obeyed, carefully perching in the middle of the other couch, arms wrapped around himself in a distinctively vulnerable gesture, huddled as small as he could get. He didn't care if he was displaying weakness; he needed something that would give him comfort in a dangerous situation. It wasn't dangerous physically, but it could be permanently damaging to his fragile core. And he didn't know if he could deal with that.  
  
It was back here, in the 'scene of the crime', as it were, that guilt struck him the hardest. And he knew that he wasn't a masochist, after all, because all he wanted at that moment was to be as far away from there as possible. He wanted to run and never look back.  
  
But he didn't. Because he owed it to Trowa . . . and to Heero.  
  
For a very, very long time there was no sound in the apartment. Duo knew Heero was sitting at one end of the room, eyes locked on him, and he knew Trowa was leaning against the shut door at the other end, eyes locked on him also. He could feel it.  
  
But still neither one said anything.  
  
[I am colorblind]  
  
And suddenly he was angry.  
  
It was purely defensive reaction. He was a cornered animal, waiting for judgement, and his judge just stood there looking at him. It was not the reaction he expected, and it made him angry.  
  
[Coffee black and egg white]  
  
[Pull me out from inside]  
  
His head jerked up and he glared around wildly, snarling.  
  
"If you're gonna flay me out would you just do it already? I didn't come here so you could stare at me like I was gonna spontaneously combust from the deathglares," he snapped, eyes flashing.  
  
[I am ready]  
  
[I am ready]  
  
[I am ready]  
  
[I am]  
  
Suddenly, Trowa spoke. "Why would we want to do that?"  
  
Duo's jaw clenched. "D-don't do that," he said, trying to put the same anger into it, the same vicious bite, but unable to stop the wavering hint of his inner feelings from leaking through. His bit his lip savagely, not caring when the familiar coppery tang of his blood seeped through. "Don't make it seem like less than it is."  
  
[Taffy stuck, tongue tied]  
  
[Stuttered shook and uptight]  
  
[Pull me out from inside]  
  
Trowa spoke again, in that same strange, soft, gentle tone. "Make what less than it is?"  
  
Duo felt like crying. He felt like screaming. He felt like pounding on something until it broke or he did. "Don't pretend!" he half-screamed, the words choking in his throat. "Just stop it!"  
  
Heero spoke for the first time since he had seen him in the dark room. His voice had the same strange gentle tone that Trowa's did. "I think he means me sleeping with him."  
  
And it was as he was sitting there shocked that Duo had an epiphany. Or thought he did.  
  
_He . . . he made it all out to be him, didn't he. . . ? He tried to stop Trowa from being too mad with me . . . by making out that it was all his fault. . . ._  
  
"Oh no you damn well don't, Yuy!"  
  
Duo was on his feet now, chest heaving as he stared down at the Japanese man. As the echoes of his shout faded from the unlit room, he ground out, much softer, "You are not taking a fall for me."  
  
Not waiting for his reply, he turned to Trowa. "It wasn't all Heero," he blurted out, his eyes begging Trowa to understand, but not asking for mercy for either one of them. "I _\--_ I wanted it, too."  
  
[I am ready]  
  
[I am ready]  
  
[I am ready]  
  
"You wanted 'it'?" Trowa queried softly.  
  
Duo swallowed hard. He had expected this, deep inside, but it was still hard to get it out, to finally tell him what he had tried so hard to keep secret. It wouldn't matter any more, since he'd already done his damage in tearing them apart, but it would give some reassurance that it wasn't cheap. Not for him.  
  
_It's time,_ that little voice inside him whispered, no longer the harsh mocking tone of earlier, but strangely one of quiet support. _No more running. No more hiding. It's time._  
  
[I am . . . fine]  
  
"I wanted Heero," Duo said softly, his head held high, daring Trowa to condemn him. It was dizzying, from inside, to realise the changes he had gone through in attitude.  
  
_He can't me mad at me for that,_ he realised dazedly. _He can't be mad with me for knowing how he feels about his lover, and feeling the same way. . . ._  
  
Trowa had moved closer, stepping away from the door. "Was Heero all you wanted?" he asked. His voice, his face, they hadn't changed _\--_ still flat and expressionless, yet strangely soft.  
  
_No more running. No more hiding._  
  
Duo looked down at the other man. "No," he said, a bare whisper of sound.  
  
_It's time._  
  
"I wanted you, too."  
  
He felt the air shift behind him, and knew Heero stood close behind him in the same way Trowa stood close in front of him. Straight and tall, hands loose at his sides.  
  
And suddenly, Trowa smiled. That dazzling, beautiful smile. It struck Duo like a hammer between the eyes. "Good."  
  
[I am covered in skin]  
  
[No one gets to come in]  
  
"W-what?!"  


| 

"I said, good." Trowa stepped forward, forcing Duo to take a step backward. He came up against Heero's firm chest, and strong hands curled around his biceps, the other man gently nuzzling his neck through his tangled hair. Duo froze.  
  
_What . . . what is going on?_  
  
Trowa put his hands on Duo's chest, carefully, one palm resting firmly on each side. "I want you."  
  
Heero shifted slightly behind Duo as his wide, shocked eyes stared down into Trowa's.  
  
"We want you."  
  
The familiar deep growl, right in Duo's ear, sent shivers down his body right to his groin. Part of him wanted it so desperately it clamoured inside him, _screamed_ inside him to not let this opportunity go, and another part of him stood shocked, disbelieving, sick inside because it was all a joke. It had to be a joke. A cruel, horrible joke that cut him so deep inside he didn't think it would ever heal. Because these were the two people, the only two people in the whole damn world he could honestly claim to love with every part of him and never want to stop.  
  
But green eyes, colourless in the light of the room, were staring up at him, and strong arms were around him, slipping from his arms to his waist and there was a mouth dropping a soft kiss on his neck _\--_   
  
_NO!_  
  
Adrenaline flooded his previously motionless and stunned muscles, tearing him away from the false promise of safety and warmth _\--_ and _love_ _\--_   
  
Duo twisted around, backing up with his hands held out defensively in front of him, until his back hit the door. He stopped, pressing up against it like he wanted to crawl inside and hide, staring at them with pain in his eyes, like a betrayal.  
  
But that wasn't right, because he was the betrayer _\--_   
  
"Don't do this," he whispered brokenly. "Please, please don't do this."  
  
[Pull me out from inside]  
  
It was Heero who approached this time, instead of Trowa. "Duo, what are you talking about?" he asked, and his voice sounded almost normal. Almost. Who would call Heero normal? "We want you. You want us. You won't ever find happiness with those people you keep dating. What's wrong?"  
  
Duo was shaking his head, hardly hearing Heero's words. "I don't want to be a one night stand," he said harshly.  
  
"Well, it's a bit too late for that, wouldn't you say?"  
  
That hurt.  
  
It cut through the last remnants of the confidence and bravery he had dredged up and left him open and bleeding. His hands and arms, still held out in front of him in a half-defensive posture, were draining of their strength by those cruel words and flopped down loosely beside him.  
  
What was the point of a superficial defence, when a few words could cut him right to the core?  
  
Heero was by his side in a second, reaching for him. "Oh kami, Duo, I'm sorry _\--_ "  
  
Duo pushed his arm aside. There was a lump in his throat the size of the Pacific. "I deserved that," he whispered, staring at the floor, then looked up, his face more open than it had ever been before and showing all his pain. "But I _don't_ deserve this damn joke!" he half-screamed, his voice breaking.  
  
Trowa was by his other side. "It isn't a joke," he said fiercely.  
  
[I am folded, and unfolded, and unfolding]  
  
[I am]  
  
"I didn't live this long by being stupid or naïve," Duo hissed. "Threesomes work for a night. They don't work longer."  
  
"Says who?" He wasn't sure who had said it, but they were both watching him calmly, waiting for his answer.  
  
"Says _everyone_! God, do you know _nothing_? Why do you think the saying goes 'two's company; three's a crowd'?" Duo was shouting now, his voice hoarse and broken. "Ask any normal person, they'll tell you!"  
  
"Since when are we normal?" Trowa stood directly in front of Duo now, face totally serious. "I'm going to tell you something now, Duo, and don't you dare interrupt me. Save up your comments for when I'm finished. Got it?"  
  
Duo opened his mouth to respond, and Trowa cut him off again.  
  
"You owe me this much at least."  
  
He slowly shut his mouth, wincing inside at the reminder, and nodded.  
  
"Fine. Heero spoke to me about this a little while ago, and I agreed." He stopped suddenly, casting his eyes to the ceiling as though he would find inspiration there. His eyes shifted to the wall at their side, and without moving his eyes from that spot, began talking in a totally flat voice. "Neither one of us has much self-confidence in interpersonal relationships, excepting those between soldier and commander. We never have and it will take much longer before we do. We never spoke of it as such, but we both chose each other as our first lover because we are so similar. We know we cannot go wrong with each other, because all we have to do is treat the other as ourself. We were both soldiers since children. We were both Gundam pilots. We both specified all boundaries of our relationship before we started it, and in the beginning I think we only looked on each other as a former war comrade we could trust, and a bed partner, an outlet for stress relief . . . not more." Now Trowa looked directly at Duo. "That changed, but only when one of us pointed out that if we had a more 'normal' relationship, it would make you happy."  
  
Duo stared, his mouth hanging open slightly. He drew in a breath to tell his friend just how damn stupid that was, but Trowa cut him off.  
  
"I don't think you really understand just how important you are to Heero and myself. Quatre would have tried every way he knew to help me, but I know nothing would have worked from him, because he wouldn't have thought to try the right things. Heero would still be a walking stone wall if not for you." Trowa leaned forward and gripped Duo's hands tightly in between his own, pressing them to his chest, his eyes boring into Duo more deeply than Heero's infamous glare ever could have. Every word he said bit deeply into the braided man. "You never gave up on me. You made me want to live. You made me want to feel. You made me feel. You searched out each and every single way you could reach me and you did. You wormed your way into the deepest pits in my psyche and you told me it was okay to be afraid." Trowa tugged on Duo's hands, his whole body radiating utter conviction. "I would not be who I am today if not for you. You dug me out from behind walls so thick I had no hope of making my way out on my own, and you expect me not to love you?"  
  
_Love me?_  
  
Heero took hold of Duo's chin and turned his shocked face towards him, blue eyes staring into his. "You never gave up on me either," he said quietly, with just as much conviction. "You kept on eating away at the shield I didn't know how to lay aside, didn't give up on me even when any sane person would have. You did the same for me that you did for Trowa, searched me out and led me out of the pit of my own psyche when I couldn't find the way myself. You made me what I am today by telling me I didn't have to listen to anyone else for what I had to be, that I could be who _I_ wanted, not anybody else. I need Trowa because he understands what I mean when I say this in a way no one else ever will, but I need you because you were the one. . . ." words failed him. He waved one hand eloquently, as though they would appear out of thin air. "To teach me everything worth knowing," he finished.  
  
Duo couldn't think of a damn thing to say.  
  
"Duo," Trowa said softly, catching his attention. Helpless, Duo looked at him. "Duo, we both love you. More than words will ever say. We love each other, too, but. . . . We were each other's confidence booster," he said with a wry smile. "We were going to stay together long enough to give each other enough confidence that we could handle a real relationship . . . with you. We never really expected to love each other. When Heero told me what had happened, I was so jealous . . . because he had had you, and I had never had a chance."  
  
Trowa glanced over at the Japanese man, a small smile quirking each set of lips. "Once I calmed down enough to talk about it rationally, we realised your reaction hinted that you most likely had feelings for us. And . . . why should one or all of us be miserable for the rest of our lives?"  
  
At some unspoken signal between the two, they stepped back, giving him breathing space, room to decide maybe. Duo looked frantically from one to the other, searching for one sign, one little sign that this was a joke, that this was a dream, knowing that they were going to laugh or fade away and he'd be back in his miserable lonely life, in his empty apartment, because no one gave the street rat a gift like this _\--_   
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Duo's knees suddenly gave way, and he slid down the door into a boneless heap on the floor, only held upright by the synthetic white-painted wood at his back.  
  
There was just one problem with this picture. One that wouldn't go away no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. And it had to be addressed _now_ , before all his reason left him.  
  
[Colorblind]  
  
"Threesomes don't work," he whispered, and lowered his head into his hands, shaking it from side to side. "They just don't work."  
  
Trowa crouched down beside him. "Says who?" he asked gently, repeating the words of earlier.  
  
"Everyone. No one. Society. Normal people."  
  
Heero snorted, crouching down beside him as well. "Duo, do we look like society's ideals?" he asked. "I was raised by an assassin and a mad scientist. Trowa was raised by mercenaries. You were raised by the streets and priests. We were all Gundam pilots. We all fought in wars at fifteen years old. We're three of the top Preventers' agents. We're all men. We're gay. Does that sound like normal or socially acceptable?" he asked. " 'Fuck normal. I'm Shinigami.' You said that once. Have you changed your mind?"  
  
"No," Duo whispered.  
  
"Then what's the problem?"  
  
He was silent, staring at the floor past his knees. He was sure he looked a mess, braid in tatters, clothes rumpled and reeking of three day old sweat and tears. He was beginning to wonder if he wasn't more fucked up than they were, with his seeming inability to accept the happiness they offered. To anyone else, after what he'd done, after what he'd said, he wouldn't be worth it. Hell, _he_ didn't think he was worth it.  
  
And still they were saying they loved him. That they wanted him.  
  
He had to shut his eyes against the tears that welled up. Still with his eyes closed, he said, "Do you want to know the real reason I ran out of Quatre's party?" he asked.  
  
"Go ahead, Duo," he heard Trowa say.  
  
"I saw Quatre and Wufei . . . and you guys . . . and you were so happy together, like the kind of 'til-death-do-us-part-two-point-three-kids-and-a-white-picket-fence happy, you know? And it was prob'ly the alcohol lowering my defences, but it made me realise that . . . that I'd never had that. That no one had ever loved me that much . . . that was why I was dating all those people. I was thinking you guys all had your forever . . . and I wanted to find mine." He opened his eyes, now wet with tears, to the two men beside him.  
  
"And you couldn't find it, could you?" Trowa said gently.  
  
[Coffee black and egg white]  
  
[Pull me out from inside]  
  
"No," Duo whispered. "N-none of them . . . could ever have been forever. And . . . and I don't think anyone else who hadn't seen what I'd seen and done . . . what I've done, could come close to being forever. It made me wonder . . . if I was meant to be alone." He swallowed hard. "But . . . but I want something for forever. And . . . and I n-need to know, what it is exactly you're offering. Forever . . . or not."  
  
"You're thinking about forever," Trowa began.  
  
"So are we," Heero finished. "All or nothing."  
  
There was a tense silence as Duo lowered his head to his knees and hid his face from them, hunched over. Each wanted so badly to hear Duo's answer, to reach out and touch him, but neither moved, fearing it would break the spell and Duo would say no. As long as they didn't love, didn't shake him out of it, there was still the chance. . . .  
  
Eventually, the braided head lifted. Red-rimmed eyes wet with tears stared at them.  
  
[I am ready]  
  
[I am ready]  
  
[I am ready]  
  
"I leave my dirty clothes on the floor," he said.  
  
"I know," Heero said, rolling his eyes.  
  
Duo sat up a little bit straighter, leaning against the door. "I leave hairballs in the drain," he said.  
  
"I know," Trowa said, remembering all the times the drains had clogged in their safehouses because of Duo's hair.  
  
"I'm messy."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'm loud."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I use other people's toothbrushes."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I can't cook anything more complicated than pasta without poisoning myself."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I can't keep a plant alive longer than two days."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Don't you care? That you'll be taking the bad along with the good?"  
  
_Please . . . tell me you don't care. . . ._  
  
[I am . . . fine]  
  
[I am . . . fine]  
  
Heero moved to carefully cup Duo's face in his hands, as though the braided man might break if he held him too tightly. "Duo," he said, "I want you with me so I can complain about the drains clogging again. I want you with me so Trowa can roll his eyes when he picks up your dirty clothes and so he can tell you to do your own laundry and end up doing it himself anyway. I want you with me so I can nag you about getting your own toothbrush and stop using mine. I want you with me and Trowa so we can take turns keeping you out of the kitchen while we cook, and then stand over you and make you do the dishes, and have you sweet-talk us into doing it anyway. I want you with me _\--_ with _us_ _\--_ so we can both complain about your little quirks, tell you turn down your stereo, and clean up your own mess. And I want you with us so we can have the right to never do a thing about your little quirks, so we can have the right to never force you to turn down your stereo, and so we can have the right to pick up after you." He smiled and leaned forward and kissed Duo on the forehead.  
  
For another long moment, Duo was silent, his eyes flicking from Heero to Trowa and back again. Then, finally, in a voice so small it could barely be heard, "Forever?"  
  
"Forever," Trowa confirmed with a smile in his eyes, Heero nodding beside him.  
  
Once again tears welled up in Duo's eyes, but all they could see was his beautiful smile as he fell into their arms.  
  
[I am fine]  
  
---


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Heero could not think of words to describe how he felt when Duo smiled through his tears and quite literally fell into his and Trowa's arms. The braided man was cradled between the two of them, his back pressed against Heero's chest and his face buried in Trowa's neck. When he had first collapsed towards them, his shoulders were heaving with the tears that sprang from the overly emotional state he had been in and soaking Trowa's turtleneck while the two had hung on, giving comfort through their solid presence.  
  
And now, as Heero lifted his eyes to meet Trowa's over Duo's head, he felt like crying himself. It was so confusing, why he felt like this. He was happy: why should he cry? Besides, soldiers don't cry.  
  
But there was a suspiciously bright glimmer in Trowa's eyes from what little he could see in the dark room. And though his smile wavered slightly, it seemed as though the green-eyed man couldn't stop that beautiful smile from blossoming on his face.  
  
His arms tightening around the now-still man in his arms, he buried his face in Duo's hair, inhaling the unique scent. Even with the three days of grease on it, his hair still smelled like the organic shampoo he used, a strange combination of lavender, aloe and rosemary (along with some other minor scents) that smelled heavenly. [1] There had been a time a short while ago when Heero had caught a scent of that every time Duo walked past his desk in Preventers HQ, and had liked it so much he unconsciously found himself sniffing the air any time Duo was in a room with him. Trowa thought it was immensely funny, so much so that he'd gone out and bought Heero a large supply of Duo's shampoo, telling him he could now smell it whenever he wanted.  
  
Duo had calmed now and was still, resting quietly in their arms. It was as though time had stopped for the three in the apartment, letting them rest endlessly in the quiet and somewhat tremulous peace that came before a lifetime together, with all its good and bad, ups and downs, and everything that came with devoting your life to someone. It was as if this was the pause that came before reality came crashing down.  
  
Heero found he didn't want to move, although he knew it had to end at some point. It was so peaceful, with his arms tight around his two lovers _\--_ his _two_ lovers. What a beautiful phrase that was. To know that he didn't have to give into society's expectations and settle on one person when he loved two with all the love that had been dug out from him.  
  
Now that he thought about, Heero wasn't sure who he owed the more to _\--_ Trowa or Duo. Duo had had the patience and love to dig him out of his shell, but it was Trowa who had continued on with Duo's work, as it were. Even if neither one really thought their relationship was going to last (at least in the beginning _\--_ it sure looked as though it was going to last a long time now) it had gone a long way to help healing old wounds.  
  
He didn't ever want to move.  
  
It all had to end, though. Duo slowly stirred, pushing his way up from Trowa's shoulder. Their arms fell from each other reluctantly, watching as Duo gave them an embarrassed smile and scrubbed the remnants of tears from his cheeks.  
  
"So . . . what now?" he asked, wincing a little at the hoarse sound of his voice.  
  
Trowa caught Heero's eye, and smirked. "Bed?" he said in a totally innocent tone of voice.  
  
Unfortunately, Duo had used the 'totally innocent' tactic one too many times _\--_ having learned it off Quatre, the master of 'totally innocent' _\--_ and eyed him suspiciously. "For what?"  
  
"There are a limited number of things that one can do in a bed," Trowa told him.  
  
"Oh yeah? Well I read in my bed, sleep in my bed, listen to music in my bed, watch TV in my bed, eat in my bed _\--_ "  
  
"Duo, you're overdoing it." Heero gave him a mock-glare.  
  
"Yeah, well, so? My point still stands." Duo crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his nose in the air. It wasn't quite the impermeable joker façade he usually maintained, considering the emotional upheaval of the last few days, but it was a damn good attempt.  
  
"Perhaps I should rephrase," Trowa _\--_ purred? "There are a limited number of things one can do in a bed when one has two horny men in it."  
  
"Ooooh, is _that_ what you meant," Duo said, eyes wide and dancing with mischief. "The thought never crossed my mind. Tell me, would you two handsome gentlemen happen to be the 'two horny men' I can expect in my bed?"  
  
"It's _my_ bed, and you're coming in it whether you like it or not," Heero growled, quite literally grabbing Duo and throwing him over his shoulder.  
  
"Shiiiiiiiiiiit!" Duo yelled, unsure whether to be panicking or laughing. He settled for a little of both. "Tro-babe, is he always like this?"  
  
Trowa, however, was snickering over Heero's double entendre with the 'coming' remark. He wasn't sure whether the Japanese man had meant it like that or not _\--_ with Heero, one could never tell.  
  
"Trooowaaaaaaa!"  
  
Shaking himself out of it, he replied, "I think the sudden addition of more warm meat has him a little excited, Duo. You can't blame the poor boy, really _\--_ after all, you _are_ a rather . . . shall we say, attractive? piece of meat."  
  
Duo sighed, giving up and relaxing a little, only to be flipped over Heero's shoulder and land with an "Oomph!" flat on his back in the middle of the bed. He stared up at the ceiling, a little dizzy, and suddenly heard the rustle of fabric hitting the floor.  
  
As Duo looked up, he was suddenly reminded of an alcohol-fogged thought he'd had three nights ago.  
  
Heero Yuy in everyday circumstances _\--_ i.e., wearing clothes _\--_ was the epitome of sex appeal.  
  
Heero Yuy naked and crawling towards you over a bed with feline grace exuded enough pheromones to attract anything with opposable thumbs. Especially when the only light in the room was the harsh, distinct illumination pouring in through the windows from the moon, throwing everything into the harsh contrast of black and white, touching on the chiselled planes and predatory grace of Heero's body while holding those eyes back in shadow, with only small chips of reflected light to show that they were fixed directly on _him_.  
  
Duo's breath caught in his throat as his groin swelled to life. Heero crawled over until he was on all fours on top of him, not touching anywhere, but with the promise of more barely a fingers-width away. He lowered his face towards Duo's until all the American could see was those hidden, shadowed eyes. . . .  
  
"This will be a night you won't forget, Duo. . . ."  
  
Duo sucked in a harsh breath and felt his semi-erect member jolt into full awareness as Heero smirked and slowly _\--_ torturously slowly _\--_ moved to kiss him.  
  
He never made it. An equally naked and equally pheromone-soaked form crashed into him from the side, sending them rolling over in a tangle of naked limbs. Startled, Duo could only turn his head and watch was Trowa planted his hands on either side of Heero's head and growled out, "You had your turn, Yuy, it's mine now" then proceeded to kiss the hell out of him.  
  
The display of tangled, naked limbs and a kiss that . . . was just about damned indescribable in its passionate, tongue-tied, writhing, groaning _sexiness_ had Duo completely stunned. Nothing . . . _nothing_ could ever compare to this.  
  
Except knowing that they were all his.  
  
"You know, you two could make a dead man horny."  
  
At his words, Trowa's head rose, breaking the kiss, a long line of saliva still connecting his mouth to Heero's. Both turned to look at Duo and smiled. "You're overdressed," Trowa pointed out.  
  
"I know." But he made no move to remove his clothes.  
  
A frown eclipsed the smile on Heero's face, and he shoved Trowa off him to sit up. "Duo?" he asked. "What's wrong?"  
  
Duo looked down at his hands. Part of him was telling him to shut up and join in, and the other part _\--_ the more sensible part _\--_ was telling him he had to get this out now, before all his sense left him and it was too late. It seemed like he saying a lot of things recently that he would never have said before, but he wanted this to work, and the best way to do that was to make sure that all potential problems were worked out at the start, and the rest _\--_ well, they'd deal with that when it came.  
  
"Trowa said that when you guys started your relationship, you laid out guidelines for it," Duo began, only to be interrupted.  
  
"Duo, if you're worried about being constrained by that, forget it," Heero said. "It doesn't _\--_ "  
  
"No, no," Duo said hurriedly. "It's not that, it's actually a pretty good idea, so we know what boundaries not to push. I mean, I have some . . . fairly frail breaking points, like one good push would do me in there, and . . . I don't want stuff like that to get in the way because we just don't talk about it."  
  
"All right then," Trowa said calmly, having picked himself up from where Heero had knocked him. It seemed fairly odd for the two naked and one clothed men to sit down as though they were in a café somewhere talking about the weather and actually be talking about things that could be the make or break of forever, when forever had started ten minutes ago. "What sort of guidelines do you mean, exactly?"  
  
"Nothing strict," Duo assured them. "Just . . . the basics. Um. . . ." He wasn't sure how to explain what he meant.  
  
"Example?" Heero asked.  
  
"I _\--_ There are two things that you never do with me," Duo said. "They're kinda stupid. . . ." He couldn't back out now. "Don't ever hit me, and. . . ." He wasn't going to explain why he never wanted to be hit. There was no point in dragging up his sordid past. "I. . . ." he trailed off. He didn't know how to say this without sounding stupid.  
  
"Whatever it is, just say it," Trowa told him.  
  
"Don't _\--_ don't ever leave me," Duo blurted in a tiny voice. He bit his lip, knowing how utterly stupid that sounded considering what they'd discussed previously. "A-and I know how stupid that sounds right now but I really needed to let you know 'cause I don't think I could take it if you ever left me and I know it's dumb 'cause you said it would be forever but I just need you to promise _\--_ "  
  
"Duo, you're babbling," Heero observed calmly, his voice cutting through the braided man's monologue.  
  
Duo bit his lip and stared at the rumpled bedcovers.  
  
A soothing hand seemed to come out of nowhere and slid over his hair and across his cheek, rubbing gently. He nuzzled his head into the hand, desperate for any sort of comfort when he felt so stupid.  
  
"If you want us to promise, we'll promise," Heero said, his voice floating disembodied to Duo's ears. "Duo, I promise I will stay with you until you die."  
  
"Hey," Trowa said, sounding amused.  
  
The Japanese man heaved a theatrical sigh. "Fine, then. Trowa, I promise you too that I will stay with you until you die."  
  
"What if you die first?" Duo asked, then mentally slapped himself. _Put your foot in it again, didn't you, Maxwell. . . ._  
  
"Then you can put my ashes in an urn on the mantelpiece and I'll have kept my promise."  
  
Trowa snickered.  
  
"Don't laugh at me, it's your turn now."  
  
Trowa stopped snickering. He looked from one to the other and solemnly declared, "Mine. Both of you. You'll never get rid of me."  
  
Duo's face split into a blinding smile. "Love you too, Tro," he whispered. He shivered suddenly, feeling the air in the room change.  
  
Heero's eyes raked down his body. "Someone pointed out earlier that you're overdressed," he purred, and all of a sudden it was way too _hot_ to stand wearing clothes any longer. Heero moved with the liquid grace inherent in him to slide to his knees and loom over Duo. The Japanese man glanced at Trowa. "How about we rectify that?"  
  
Trowa moved beside him and nuzzled his jaw where it joined his neck, tongue flickering out to lightly taste the skin. "Mm. . . ." was all the reply Heero got.  
  
He took that as a yes.  
  
It seemed to Duo that one moment everything was quiet and still despite the tension radiating through the room, and the next it exploded into hands and mouths and writhing. His clothes were gone before he knew it, long fingers clenching in his hair as one mouth devoured his, another set of hands slowly running up his long legs. The light teasing touch along his skin combined with the skilful, squirming, wet tongue exploring his mouth shot straight to his groin and Duo moaned into Trowa's mouth as he went hard.  
  
Trowa slowly broke the kiss, a long line of saliva still connecting their mouths, leaving Duo panting and only supported by the hands cupping his head.  
  
Slowly, the braided man's eyes slitted open, lips wet and swollen, breath panting through them. Both Heero and Trowa were looking at him, running predatory eyes along his body, soaking up the sight of him in their bed.  
  
He suddenly knew what was meant by the phrase 'hungry eyes'.  
  
Duo suddenly knew how a deer must feel in front of a pack of hungry wolves. Except suddenly he felt the determination to show them he was a king buck . . . and not about to go down without a fight.  
  
Drawing his legs up under him, he rose so he was seated on his heels, as they were, a wicked grin flickering around the corners of his mouth, shamelessly posing and displaying himself for them to see. Trowa reached out and slid one finger along the top of his thigh, from the knee, up, up, up . . . rubbing circles on the hip . . . and back down again, not breaking eye contact with his new lover the whole time.  
  
Duo smirked at him, slipping one hand up over his chest to grasp the base of his braid at the nape of his neck and pulling it oh-so-slowly over his shoulder, the whole thing a sensual show. He ran his fingers down the length of the braid as slowly as Trowa continued to trace his thigh, Heero's dark eyes burning into them, before _\--_   
  
Flicking it back over his shoulder.  
  
Heero's breath hissed in between his teeth, the only indication of displeasure at his little tease. The hand that had captured the braid fell to play softly with the sheets. He slid the other hand up from where it had been lazily caressing his other thigh _\--_ not making it the centre of attention _\--_ and slid it equally slowly to his chest, eyes never leaving Trowa's and caressing the lines of his muscles so as to capture the attention of his two beautiful lovers so they see what he was doing as he rubbed his fingers across his chest, torturing himself as well as them as he circled a nipple before taking hold and squeezing.  
  
It sent a bolt of red-hot fire straight down to his groin, and he threw his head back, moaning and unable to stop himself. His nipples had always been incredibly sensitive.  
  
That little display seemed to be the last straw for the other two in the bed as suddenly Duo found himself on his back again as someone pinned his wrists above his head and someone else _\--_ or the same someone, he wasn't sure _\--_ ran light fingers down the inside of his thigh, and someone else licked, sucked and worshipped one nipple while toying with the other, and someone else took hold of his erection and pumped it and oh shit _\--_   
  
Duo collapsed into a writhing, moaning pile of flesh. Electricity crackled over his skin everywhere they touched, and he didn't know how he managed to stop himself from coming right then and there. They were only simple touches, but it felt so damn good, so damn good, maybe because it was them or because there were two of them or because it had been so long or _\--_   
  
He didn't know. And his brain was being fried, so he didn't want to waste time thinking about it.  
  
A low chuckle sounded by his ear, before a hot, wet tongue flickered out and circled it. "I think our little Duo is a bit overwhelmed, isn't he?"  
  
Trowa.  
  
"I'll show you little. . . ." Duo growled in return, pushing his way out of those wonderful, seductive hands and crouching a short way away from them, Trowa and Heero crouched on their haunches in a similar position and wearing almost identical, sensual smirks. He gave them the smile he _knew_ was incredibly dark and sultry, a veritable little seductress, and released his secret weapon.  
  
He took his hair out of his braid.  
  
From the sudden harsh inhalation that echoed through the room, he knew the desired effect had taken place. Focusing on Trowa as his target, he slowly crawled over to him, putting everything he knew of seduction into the sensual movement, muscles rippling, his hair fanning and slithering over him like a translucent curtain of silk. Once he reached the other man, he slowly rose to his knees, licking a line along Trowa's jaw and catching his hands when they reached for him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Heero get off the bed.  
  
"So you think I'm overwhelmed, do you?" he whispered in Trowa's ear, holding his body just that slightest bit away from touching. He moved his mouth down to his lover's collarbone, licking, sucking and nuzzling all the way there. "You think I'm not going to be able to cope?" Leaving his hands to trail down from Trowa's shoulders after him, he gradually kissed and suckled his way down the other man's chest. A kiss at the navel "You think. . . ." A kiss on the hip "I don't. . . ." A long line of tongue slithering across to Trowa's erection before pulling away without touching "Want you?"  
  
A feral grin split Duo's face, even though he knew Trowa couldn't see it, and without warning he lunged in and swallowed his lover whole.  
  
"Shit!"  
  
The expletive hung in the air as Duo worked the hard flesh in his mouth, moaning. For so long he thought he would never have this . . . never be allowed to do this. He put all the energy of his half-baked daydreams and what he had labelled as foolish thoughts into giving Trowa as much pleasure as possible _\--_ and from the small, whimpering noises that were coming out of his throat and the death-grip Trowa had on his hair, he'd say he was doing a fairly good job.  
  
The bed dipped a little with Heero's weight as he returned, Duo barely giving it more than a moment's attention before he returned to bobbing his head back and forth on Trowa's cock. He teased the slit with his tongue before once again returning to the deepthroat that had Trowa as so much putty in his hands, hands planted on either side of his lover's hips.  
  
Duo moaned around the delicious erection in his mouth as long, cool fingers traced the sensitive edge of his opening. Heero bent down and licked the small of his back, tasting the salty sweat accumulating there, before trailing his mouth down to his fingers and flicking his tongue down into Duo's crack. Duo moaned louder, the vibrations translating across to Trowa, whose fingers clenched in his hair, head thrown back as he groaned.  
  
Lifting his head away, Heero slowly circled Duo's entrance with one finger before gently pushing inside to the first knuckle. Duo made a small "Mmph" of impatience and bucked back on his finger, swallowing more into his tight heat.  
  
"Impatient much?" Heero asked, voice husky from the lust sparked in him. Both his lovers looked incredible, Trowa's cock disappearing into Duo's mouth, his pert rear stuck high in the air, the long column of Trowa's neck exposed as his head threw back. He slid his finger in and out of Duo in a long, slow, thrusting motion, before gently adding another and beginning to stretch that delectable ass.  
  
Duo groaned again, feeling the overwhelming sensation of being fucked from two ends. Trowa's thick, heavy cock in his mouth filled his nose with the scent of musk, Heero's fingers in his rear jabbed deliciously closer and closer to _that spot_ , circling and stretching for the bigger, better invasion that was to come. . . . He sucked harder on Trowa's cock, mindlessly trying to return the pleasure he was given.  
  
"Stop," Trowa whispered hoarsely, tugging Duo's head from his penis. "Duo, stop or I'll come," he said, more strongly now, tearing himself away from that warm, wet haven with difficulty.  
  
"That's . . . the idea," Duo gasped, bucking back on Heero's fingers. "Nn . . . dammit, more. . . ."  
  
Trowa leaned down and kissed him fiercely, tongue tangling with his lover's as he tasted himself on Duo's tongue. "I want to come inside you," he growled against the braided man's lips, hands still fisted in his hair. Duo moaned, eyes closing as they rolled back in his head, sharp pricks of lust sweeping through him.  
  
And then Trowa was gone, and he didn't know where, but it didn't matter, because there were three fingers inside him now and they were hitting _that spot_ and it felt so good, it felt _so good_ , he was gonna come, he was gonna come from just those perfect, talented fingers thrusting inside him. . . .  
  
Dimly, he was aware of Heero's moan from behind him, but the majority of his attention was brought back to the sudden still of those wonderful fingers inside him. He growled his disapproval, bucking back on them, only to be rewarded with their removal. Duo collapsed, whining.  
  
And then there was a hard body pressed to his back, throbbing erection between his cheeks, familiar scent tickling his nose. "It's not over yet, Duo," came the whisper, and he was being pulled up and he was on his knees, guided to turn around, and another set of arms were around him, holding him against a firm, hard chest, and _there_ was what he wanted, rubbing against him, pushing in oh so slowly, oh so _deliciously_ _\--_   
  
Duo panted, head thrown back on his lover's shoulder, as he was filled from behind, pleasure outweighing pain. His legs spread out to either side of him, cock standing proud and tall, one hand stealing down to pump him torturously slowly.  
  
Trowa planted small, butterfly kisses on Duo's neck and shoulder, willing him to relax, to come down from how close he was to the edge, his own body begging to thrust into the tight, wet heat that surrounded it even as he held back.  
  
After all, this was only the beginning.  
  
"Daijoubu?" he asked softly, running his tongue along the edge of Duo's ear.  
  
"H-hai," the other panted out, eyes clenched shut.  
  
They flared wide open, however, when cold, wet fingers smeared lubricant onto his erection. Violet eyes stared up at Heero, who grinned and removed his hand, moving forwards and slamming himself onto his new lover without hesitation.  
  
Duo screamed at the dual sensations of taking and being taken. He whimpered, having nearly lost it before and being kept so close to the edge and held back from it, he wasn't sure how much more he could take. . . .  
  
Trowa chuckled behind him, chest vibrating against his back and voice thrumming in his ear. "Heero likes it hard," he whispered. Duo groaned at the words, hips bucking despite Trowa's death grip on them.  
  
And then there were no more words, only grunts and moans and the slap-slap of sweating bodies meeting as they found a rhythm and moved to it, Heero riding Duo as hard as he could, and Trowa fucking Duo long and slow and Duo groaning with the sensory overload, trying to hang on for as long as he could because god DAMN he never wanted this to end. . . .  
  
But end it did. Heero slammed himself onto Duo one last time and yelled, muscles clamping tight as he emptied himself onto Duo's chest, fingers digging bruises into the other's shoulders. Duo screamed, his voice hoarse, as the unbearable tightness of Heero's passage proved too much and he emptied himself into the other, groaning as Trowa bit down hard on his neck, feeling the hot flood of cum fill him.  
  
They collapsed on the bed in a sweaty, sated tangle, not even bothering to change positions before they passed out.  
  
---


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> italics= thoughts/emphasis
> 
> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"Heero! Duo! Trowa! Come on in!"  
  
The corner of Trowa's mouth quirked up at Quatre's enthusiastic greeting. God, would the ultimate description of him forever reside in the word 'genki'?  
  
He followed his two lovers into the apartment, taking in the colourful decorations with an assessing eye. Today was the fifth anniversary of the Mariemeia incident, and so Quatre had decided they all had to get together to 'celebrate another victory, that hopefully was a permanent one this time'.  
  
Otherwise known as a very good excuse to get together with your friends and get, as Duo was fond of saying, "Com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced."  
  
Trowa accepted the beer handed to him and sat beside Wufei on the couch, returning his silent nod of greeting with one of his own. Duo made a bee-line for the kitchen and the beer, Heero following in his wake.  
  
Trowa had a feeling all Heero wanted to do was stare at his butt.  
  
He took a sip of my beer and sighed, leaning his head back on the couch. Duo had declared that tonight all he wanted to do was get drunk, and Heero had his whole-hearted support in that. Which left him to wonder when the hell they had both got such a taste for alcohol. It certainly wasn't any time he could remember.  
  
"Having fun with those two?" Wufei asked him, tilting his head in the direction of the kitchen, where Quatre was trying to convince Duo to leave at least a _few_ cans in the fridge to keep them cool for later.  
  
Trowa smiled at him _\--_ something he could do more freely _\--_ and replied, "Peachy. You?"  
  
"Horny," he deadpanned, his face completely serious. Trowa choked, and then started laughing.  
  
"Yo, Tro-babe!" Duo stuck his head back into the room. He blinked at his lover. "Something funny?"  
  
Trowa waved a hand at him, still chuckling. "I don't think Quatre would like me to repeat it," he told him, grinning.  
  
"Don't think I would like you to repeat what?" the afore-mentioned blond said, appearing behind Duo with a large bowl of crisps in his arms.  
  
Trowa shook my head. "Nothing."  
  
Quatre gave him a suspicious look, but said nothing, placing the bowl on the coffee table lining the wall opposite him.  
  
Duo bounced into the room, beer can in his hand, and plonked himself down on the floor in front of Trowa, tilting his head back to grin up at his lover before turning his attention to Quatre. "So, what's the plan for today, Q-bean?" he asked.  
  
Quatre blinked. "You know, I really hadn't thought of one," he said. "Maybe we could play truth or dare again?"  
  
"No," was Heero's succinct response to that as he came out of the kitchen. "Last time we played that I ended up flat on my face going 'tweet'."  
  
Trowa snickered. "You _were_ drop-dead drunk," he reminded the Japanese man.  
  
Heero scowled at him before throwing himself on the couch, head in Trowa's lap and feet on Wufei's. "You would remember that," he declared flatly before taking a drink from his bottle.  
  
Wufei glared down at his friend. "Yuy, would you kindly refrain from using me as a footstool?" he asked acerbically. " _Some_ of us find being relegated to being part of the upholstery demeaning."  
  
"I'll swap with ya, Wu-chan!" Duo declared, and unceremoniously shoved the Chinese man off the couch before telling Heero to 'budge over, you fat bastard' and curling up in the exact same position as said 'fat bastard'.  
  
Trowa gave Wufei a sympathetic look. "At least you're not consistently used as an armchair for two grown men who are more than a bit bigger than you."  
  
"You're comfy, Tro-babe," Duo told him cheerfully.  
  
Heero mumbled something. "What was that?" Duo asked him, peering over his shoulder.  
  
". . . not a fat bastard. . . ."  
  
Quatre giggled at Heero's petulant tone even as Duo laughed, took his beer from his hand, and pulled that arm tight around him. "'Course you're not, babe," he said. "I just wanted to tease you a bit, that's all."  
  
Heero grunted, then tightened his arm around Duo and nuzzled the back of his neck. Trowa gave their hosts an exasperated look. "Gomen," he said. "They both just have this thing about acting childish when not on a mission . . . something about deprived childhoods. . . ."  
  
"You do it too, Tro-babe," Duo informed him. "You just refuse to do it where other people can see you. Apart from us, that is."  
  
"Hmph."  
  
"Noooooo! He's caught the dreaded Heero disease!"  
  
"Duo. . . ." said man growled warningly.  
  
"Yes?" The American plastered a near-perfect imitation of Quatre's angelic smile on his face as he peered back into exasperated blue eyes.  
  
Heero tilted his head up to look at Trowa. "Remind me again why we put up with him?"  
  
"Three-way sex," Trowa deadpanned.  
  
"Too much information," Wufei declared, having now ensconced himself on the other sofa, where he was less likely to be shoved out of the way by two pairs of feet. "I believe a subject change is in order."  
  
"Okay, instead of talking about our sex life, let's talk about yours and Quatre's," Heero said in his usual monotone.  
  
As Wufei sputtered that some things should remain private, Trowa reflected that they had been very lucky in people's reactions to their relationship. Quatre had blinked and looked startled for a moment, but after thinking about it for a short while had declared that it was most likely the only way that all three of them would be happy. Wufei's reaction had been the most surprising of all _\--_ he had smirked and told them it was about damn time. Which left Trowa to wonder precisely _how_ Wufei had come to that conclusion _\--_ and what he had been doing thinking about the three of them together in the first place.  
  
Not everyone had been as understanding. Une had refused to speak to any of them for days, before finally deciding that having the Preventers fully functional and not divided because of personal preferences was more important, and had tried her very best to ignore it. She was coming around, now, after having two full years to get used to the idea, and had surprised all of them by making wisecracks about it at infrequent intervals.  
  
Some people looked on their relationship as completely immoral. They refused to have anything to do with any of the three pilots, and would actively scorn them if ever in their presence. But then, that was only to be expected, and thankfully no one truly close to any of the pilots had reacted that way. Une had been taking great pains to ensure that the people in Preventers who reacted that way were never put on a field mission of any kind with one of the pilots, lest their antagonism get in the way of a potentially dangerous situation. Not that Duo, Trowa and Heero couldn't handle themselves in a fight _\--_ far from it. Une was more worried about the _other_ Preventers.  
  
Most people just thought it wouldn't last. They weren't angry about it or, like some, offended about something that had absolutely nothing to do with them _\--_ they just thought the three of them were making a mistake that would cost them their friendship.  
  
_Well_ , Trowa thought, _we've certainly proved_ them _wrong._  
  
Two years. Two whole years of living with his two lovers, arguing with them, working with them, going out with them, just plain _loving_ them.  
  
Life couldn't get any better than this.  
  
"I know what we should do!" Duo suddenly declared loudly, sitting up and attracting Trowa's wandering attention while dislodging Heero's arm. An impish grin dawned on the American's face. "Strip Twister!"  
  
Okay, maybe life could get better than this.  
  
+  
  
Several hours, and quite a few bottles of beer later:  
  
"Okay, Trowa, left foot, red dot."  
  
"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" Trowa grumbled. He was in a perfect crab shape on the mat _\--_ which left his left foot diagonally opposite the only free red dot. And Duo had somehow managed to get in a position where he was sprawled all over him. Literally. Not that Trowa was complaining, mind, but it was going to make this manoeuvre very difficult.  
  
"Duo, can you lift up a bit? I need to swing my leg round."  
  
"Sure thing, Tro-babe," Duo replied cheerfully, using his superior height to hoist himself up from where he had been (deliberately, Trowa was sure) rubbing him in certain strategic places.  
  
Quatre had managed to talk the braided man out of the playing Strip Twister, on the stipulation that whoever lost a game had to do some humiliating dare like singing "Hit Me Baby One More Time" to the people in the apartment opposite Quatre's.  
  
Thankfully, nobody had been so cruel as to charge anyone to do that so far.  
  
Trowa concentrated on moving his leg up under Duo, and twisting his body to the right so that he could plant the foot down without losing his touch on any of the other dots. He blessed his time in the circus as he just made it, body contorted into a shape that looked _very_ uncomfortable.  
  
Wufei, sitting across from where he was now facing, gaped at him. "Barton, I know you did acrobatics before, but this is ridiculous!" he declared.  
  
"You ought to see what he can do in bed," Heero muttered, trying to concentrate on not falling over. About the only thing propping him up (he'd had far too much to drink again) was Duo's leg, stretched out under him to a spot on the other side.  
  
"I'd rather leave that to you, thank you," Wufei informed him, still gaping at Trowa's contortion. It left him doing the splits in the air, shoulders twisted to prop himself up on the hands behind him. "I have much greater flexibility in most from my katas," he told Trowa, "but there is no way in hell I could ever get into that position without breaking something."  
  
In a rare fit of impishness, Trowa grinned, then tsked and shook his head. "Getting old, Fei-Fei," he said in mock ruefulness.  
  
Duo snorted. "Okay, Heero's turn! Spin, Q-man, spin!"  
  
Quatre and Wufei had decided that the board was far too small for all of them, and so had sat out. Since he had both hands free, Quatre was spinning for everyone.  
  
"Heero! Right hand, yellow dot."  
  
It was perhaps unfortunate that the only free yellow dots were right underneath Trowa. It was also unfortunate that Heero had had far too much to drink and was having difficultly controlling his limbs as he reached for one of them. The end result of this was that he fell down directly onto Duo's leg, who, faced with the options of falling over or having a broken limb, collapsed directly onto Trowa. Trowa, of course, fell with an "Oof!" in his wonderfully uncomfortable position.  
  
A muffled voice came from the vicinity of Heero's head, buried in the mat. "Sorry."  
  
"S'okay!" Duo jumped to his feet, grinning madly. He hadn't had as much to drink as he usually did, which meant he could actually speak and be understood. "I've got _just_ the dare for you, Heero, my man!"  
  
"What?" Heero asked suspiciously, clumsily trying to help Trowa to his feet.  
  
Duo was rummaging through Quatre's CDs, trying to find what he was looking for. "Aha!" he declared in triumph, waving one of the them over his head. He walked over to Heero and presented him with the CD with a flourishing bow.  
  
"Your dare, my good sir, is to sing Monty Python's 'Medical Love Song', from start to finish." Duo was grinning like a maniac as he straightened.  
  
"Okay," Heero surprised everyone by saying _\--_ and then shocked them further by not needing the words in the CD's insert. "Inflammation of the foreskin/ reminds me of your smile. . . ."  
  
"Duo, did you really have to do that?" Trowa asked with a pained grimace.  
  
"Yep!" The braided man threw himself down in Trowa's lap, wrapping an arm around his neck. "C'mon, this is the Great _Heero Yuy_ singing about sexual infections. I just had to!"  
  
"I just want to know how _he_ knows it. . . ."  
  
"Your trichovaginitis/ sent shivers down my spine,/ I got snail tracks in my anus/ when your spirochetes met mine. . . ."  
  
"I should damn well hope not," Trowa muttered into Duo's hair, causing the other man to snicker.  
  
Quatre was watching Heero with something akin to desperation on his face. "Allah. . . ." he squeaked. Heero made a very comical sight _\--_ he had fallen over so he was flat on his back, and was waving his arms around as though conducting an orchestra, while singing the song without a hint of expression on his face.  
  
"It gets better, Q-man, don't worry," Duo told him.  
  
"My clapped out genitalia/ is not so bad for me,/ As the complete and utter failure/ every time I try to pee./ My doctor says my buboes/ are the worst he's ever seen,/ My scrotum's painted orange/ and my balls are turning green!"  
  
"I hadn't noticed," Duo said with a perfectly straight face.  
  
"Maxwell, did you really have to?" Wufei asked with a pained expression.  
  
"Yeppers!"  
  
"Anterior u-ve-i-tis!" Heero finished with a flourish, then burped.  
  
"Thank God that's over," Quatre said, then began determinedly folding the Twister set away. "We are NOT playing this any more, if that's the result."  
  
Duo protested immediately. "Aw, c'mon, Q-bean, just one more game?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"It was worth it, wasn't it, just to hear Heero sing that?"  
  
Something nudged Trowa's thigh. He looked down to see it was Heero, smiling up at him. Trowa smiled back, then sighed and shook his head as he tightened his arms around Duo, giving his other lover a rueful look that was sympathetically returned.  
  
The green-eyed man let out a breath and relaxed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. A moment later there was a solid warmth at his back, and he leaned back into Heero, still cradling the much larger form of Duo in his lap.  
  
This was worth it. Every snub he had to put up with, every person who looked at him in pity because they thought he was making a bad mistake, every time they had the irritant of finding furniture and other things that suited three people, not two, it was all worth it for this. To have Duo curled up against him as he argued with Quatre, one of Heero's hands lightly caressing his wrist, the other one linking its fingers with Duo. To have Wufei look at the three of them and smirk before hauling The Blond One close.  
  
To listen to Heero sing the Medical Love Song and make cracks about his claimed diseases.  
  
Trowa sighed and leaned his head back on Heero's shoulder, smiling.  
  
He was happy.  
  
---


End file.
